I’d like to thank the Academy

I’m so honoured to have been nominated for the Sunshine Blogger Award by Kelli from Blush and Brews! As a new blogger it’s so exciting to be noticed and acknowledged by my newfound peers in this community.  And on that note, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank those of you who have discovered and followed me over the past few weeks. It definitely makes a serial-dater feel special 😉


But enough about that. Here’s how the Sunshine Blogger Award works:

  1. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you in the blog post and link back to their blog.
  2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
  3. Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
  4. List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or on your blog.

Here are Blush and Brews’ questions, along with my answers.

1. What is something in your life that you regret not doing?
Spending a year in Amsterdam, my favourite city in the world.

2. New books or new school/office supplies?
I really do love me some new office supplies, but books make you a smarter and better person, and I think we can all benefit from that 🙂

3. Do you have any phobias?
There are lots of things that scare me, but nothing that I am phobic of.

4. What is your favorite hobby, aside from blogging?
I love to crochet Amigurumi, which are adorable little stuffed animals that are way cooler than your grandma’s crocheting!

5.  Do you have an all-time favorite movie?
I have a special place in my heart for the movie Troop Beverly Hills. It’s by no means award-worthy, but it’s sweet and fun and I loved it and watched it so much as a kid that I knew it by heart!

6. Unlimited money or true love?
Well this blog isn’t called The Money Study, so definitely true love!

7. What is the best thing that has happened to you this week?
My best friend’s 2-year old daughter learned to say my name 🙂 🙂

8. What three words best describe you?
Cooky, sassy, nerdy.

9. Tell me a joke.
If you’re Canadian going in to the bathroom, and American coming out of the bathroom, what are you when you’re IN the bathroom?
ANS: European!! (Get it? You’re-a-pee’in)

10. Who is your role model or someone who has inspired you?
Those who know me will surely roll your eyes at my answer, but I’d have to say that Lin Manuel Miranda has become an inspiration to me over the past year. Not only is he hugely talented as he wrote, composed, and starred in Hamilton, but he is also pretty OK at giving back. He is in the process of raising money for relief efforts in Puerto Rico, he invites classes of high school students to see Hamilton in NYC for free (as part of their history class) and then has meet-and-greets with them (my cousin went with his class, so jelly), and he’s raising money for the Natural Resources Defense Council, in a joint effort with his wife. Oh and from stalking him on Twitter, he also seems like a pretty nice guy… I’d totally date him, hehe.

11. What’s your most embarrassing moment?
One day when I was 18, I was on the way to my friend’s house when I took my usual detour to drive by my crush’s house. To my surprise (and horror), he was actually outside playing basketball and totally saw me. Once we made eye contact I had no choice but to slow down and wave while flashing an uncontrollably terrified smile. It was in that moment that, while still waving, I heard a loud honk! It was a Domino’s Pizza car and I had almost driven into it. I was mortified. In retrospect, that should have been the first indication that I could never survive a Slutty Study!

My nominees

My Questions

  1. What is the last TV show that you binge-watched?
  2. What song or movie title best describes your life or personality?
  3. What is your guilty pleasure?
  4. Would you rather have 20 fingers or no fingers?
  5. What made you decide to start blogging?
  6. What would be the #1 tip would you give to a new blogger?
  7. Where is your dream travel destination?
  8. What blogger inspires you the most?
  9. What is your favourite food?
  10. What is your least favourite food?
  11. What is your ideal Saturday night?

Can’t wait to hear your answers!

Whoa there tiger

If you were to scroll through my online dating profile pictures you would see some pretty basic stuff. Not to say that I don’t look like a sexy fox or like the coolest girl on the block, obviously, but I still try to keep it real. They’re pictures of me looking cute in front of things that are nice or representative of me, like a gorgeous view in Spain or the poster of my favorite musical in NYC. I also make sure that they look like me on an average day, and I especially make sure to keep them non-obnoxious. I’m never leaning over showing my cleavage, nor am I ever so done up that when I meet a guy in person he’s all “New phone who dis? You sure YOU’re the girl in your pictures?” I think it’s only fair.

So when I’m swiping on Bumble or happn, I already know what interests and attracts me vs. what makes me laugh at a guy. I’ll mostly swipe left (that means NO to you online dating virgins, you lucky ducks) if the guy just doesn’t seem like my general vibe, and I’ll always swipe left and also roll my eyes when the guy has pictures of his motorcycle or of him topless in his bathroom mirror. This might sound awful, and I wish there were more to it than a few snapshots and maybe a sentence, but that’s just not how it works in this virtual day and age.

I bring this up because last night while on a commercial break from This Is Us I was wiping away my tears and swiping away at my apps when I came across a mirror selfie that was just too much. It was I-live-alone-but-still-laughed-out-loud type of too much. Although it was a mirror selfie and showed what I’ll admit was a great bod, his top was STILL ON! but was lifted to just above his nips. Also, his pants were on too, however they were just undone. I was so struck by this picture that I had to take a screenshot of it and share it here with all of you. I made sure to cut his face off since I’m only a mid-level a-hole.

Processed with VSCO with hb2 preset

You may not have the same reaction as me, but here are the things really did it for me:

  1. His shirt not being completely off- Is he too lazy to actually fully remove it? Might he only lift my top to above my tatas if we were to ever get it on?!? That’s awkward… Or does he have really nice abs and pecks but super ugly shoulders so he wants to conceal them? After all that iron pumping that would be a huge bummer.
  2. His shirt not being completely off (again)- He’s putting the focal point on his toned abs and pecks. I mean they are indeed very nice and he must have worked very hard to get them like that, and maaaaybe I wished my abs that were that nice, but to me he’s making it seem like it’s the only thing that matters, like even his face is secondary!
  3. His pants are undone- His pants? Really? Does he want to show that he knows how to use a zipper? Or maybe he wanted to show off his favorite CK undies? It makes me feel like he’s trying to sleep with me right through the screen of my iPhone!

Now maybe I’m a prude (highly likely), or maybe I’m just too old for this sh*t (sad reality), but come on man! Is there anything more to you? I wouldn’t even know because it was his only picture! I just found this went the extra mile of hilarious. Conversely, if his goal was just to find some sweet biddy to bang tonight (again, highly likely), then congrats- that message is loud and clear, and good on him for advertising his intentions so blatantly.  In the end, we’re both single (I hope) and trying to find something we are missing using a dating app, so really who am I to judge?!

All this to say, I really don’t mean to sh*t all over this guy, truly. To each their own, you do you, bro. Maybe he’s actually the man of my dreams- but because of those pictures we’ll never know… In all fairness he probably saw my pictures and thought “Damn, she’s cute but look at all the clothes she’s wearing, she’s definitely not putting out on the first date. NEEEXT.”

And he would be perfectly right, and that’s ok.

Well mostly right… hehe 😉

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Love a good quickie

Out of all the dating apps out there, the one I like most is called happn. If you don’t know it already, it gives you potential matches based on people who also use the app and who you happened (get it?) to have “crossed paths” with throughout your day. It even tells you the intersection where you crossed! Creepy and cool at the same time, right? I know. I guess it uses your phone’s GPS, and it’s surely tracking my every move and knows what I had for breakfast this morning, but I’m not ashamed to admit that it just doesn’t bother me, well for this purpose at least… I like knowing that my matches live or work or hangout in areas where I live or work or hangout, it makes me feel like we already have something in common. Is that weird?

Anyway, I matched with a dude who owns a restaurant around the block from me, and even before sending my usual “Hey, what’s up?” opener, I started thinking about all the free food I could get if we actually hit it off. Once we started chatting, I learned that he is also one of the chefs of the restaurant. Owner AND chef? Ooh la la! Love me a guy who can cook so I don’t have to (pretend to). I’m telling you, this happn app knows what’s up.  Turns out he also lived pretty close to me. Bonus points all around.

After a few days of chatting, we decided to meet up, but immediately ran into a problem. He worked every afternoon and evening, and I worked every weekday. We just couldn’t find a time where neither of us was working. We kept bouncing possible days and times back and forth, but nothing was matching up, it was starting to feel like it would never happen happn. We finally came up with with something that kind of worked and somewhat resembled a date- me joining him on a break from work to go walk his dog on a Friday late afternoon. It wasn’t ideal for either of us, but it was good enough.

Friday early afternoon rolled around and I got a message from him saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it for our quasi-date since one of his employees called in sick. This whole “restaurant owner” job was starting to look a lot less cool, and was becoming pretty inconvenient for me. WTF. He asked if we can push the date to later on that night, but I already had plans with some friends. Meeting this guy was starting to feel like a lot more energy than it was worth. I wasn’t mad, but I was starting to write him off in my head based purely on the fact that we may never be able to meet. Maybe living and working in close proximity to each other wasn’t always enough!

The next morning I had kind of forgotten about my potential personal chef and was in the middle of running some errands when I got a message from him. He said he was free for the next 2 hours and could meet if I was free too. *Clap emoji*.  For some reason I was impressed that he hadn’t given up on us meeting, and also by his spontaneity. We agreed to meet in an hour at a nearby café and then walk back together to my house and his restaurant.

All of the sudden I was excited about this date. Not because I thought I was about to meet my soulmate, but because it had a set end time! No awkward lingering at the end, no Sh*t is he bored, should we call it? am I bored? should we get the cheque? It made me think of the episode of Sex in the City where Carrie was “expiration dating”. Great minds, amirite?!?

So we met at the café, but by the time he got there we really only had 45 minutes together before he started work at 2pm. Even better. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he was better looking in real life than in his pictures, and I was equally surprised that I actually enjoyed talking to him in person. We stayed at the café for about a half hour, where I asked him all about his restaurant and what I can get for free if I was his girlfriend (joke!), and then we walked back towards our places, said goodbye, and continued on with our days.

When I got home I was happy that it was a decent date, but I was even happier that it was a fast date! Holy sh*t I think I’m on to something here.  As a first date, like I’ve said in a previous post, the goal (for me) is just to see if I can tolerate the guy’s stupid face, to make sure that I don’t hate him when we meet in person. If he seems OK enough, THEN I’m happy to do something a little more substantial for the second date, like dinner or something.  OMG this expiration date idea was brilliant, how had I never thought of it before?! It was just long enough to decide if I wanted to see him again, without taking up too much of my time or energy. Even if it had gone badly, I wouldn’t be annoyed since it was just 45 minutes of my day! I wouldn’t have wasted a Thursday evening on him when I could have been at home watching Scandal in my pajamas.

For this quickie date, I another thing that I liked was that we sat for a bit, but we also walked for a bit- something about seeing him in motion felt like I was getting a better initial feel for this internet stranger. Also, on a first date I like to go for some non-committal drinks, and although we’re not having an entire meal, I usually feel the need for a 2-drink minimum, like that it’s the polite thing to do whether it’s going well or not (sadly, the ladder is more common). But this one was short enough there was no time obligation, so conversation didn’t run out or feel like it was dragging. I’ve had dates where I’m having a good time, but because we each ordered that third drink or the service was slow, we both started getting tired and conversation started to feel forced, leading to a false not-so-good end.  This way it left me wanting more. I was amazed.

Is there any way I could execute this type of date again in the future? It was just circumstantial that it turned out this way, but it was so smart and effective! Is it just because I’m so cynical that this idea excites me this much? Like since most of my first dates are the pits? I’m not going to lie, I’ve actually had the thought of wanting to FaceTime with a guy as a first date so I can decide then and there if he’s an awkward weirdo and not waste my time by leaving my house. Yes I know, I should be ashamed of myself. Nevertheless, this expiration date seems like a perfect middle-ground!

What do you think about my version of expiration dating? Would it interest you? Any ideas on how to make this the norm? Let’s revolutionize the dating world! Who’s with me?



Just me?

Ok 😉

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There’s a first time for everything

Long before the Slutty Study was even a thought in my mind, I took a Caribbean cruise with my family, which included my parents, my 3 brothers, and one of their girlfriends. Back then I was way shyer than I am today and would never have dreamed of documenting any of type of dating, flirtation, or hanky panky on a blog for the world to see. That being said, I think most singles are plenty happy to keep a lookout for a vacation fling, this shy girl included.

It was formal night on our cruise, so the whole family headed to dinner in our cocktail dresses and suits, with freshly sunburned faces to match. After dinner us “kids” decided that we couldn’t let our formal-wear go to waste by going back to our rooms, so we hit up the tacky cruise nightclub, knowing full well that we were way too cool for it.  Nonetheless, I was in a hot dress on my way to da club- I obviously had my single girl antennae up.

When we got there we were disappointed to see how unbelievably desolate the place was. We were about to turn around and leave when I convinced my siblings to stay for just one drink. So we sat at the bar making fun of the 60 year old couple and various other weirdos living it up on the dance floor. In all of this people-watching we must have missed the fact that a new guy came in and was sitting just across from us on the other side of the bar. When we realized that he was alone and decent looking, my brothers and gf instantly starting encouraging me (more liking pushing and teasing me) to go talk to him. Like I said before, I was a shy non-thirty-something non-slut, so this idea terrified me, but I was also away from home and in vacation mode, so it also excited me. On top of this, the guy kept looking in our (well, my) direction, so we figured it was really his invitation for me to go talk to him.

So I did.

I walked right the heck over, sat down next to him and said hey what’s up? Thankfully we had read him correctly and he was, in fact, single and ready to mingle. We started chatting and it was actually not-so-bad. Don’t get me wrong, there were no fireworks or gazing into each other’s eyes, but it was still good enough, and that was really all I needed! I soon learned that he was way younger than me (early twenties and I was in my late twenties), and immediately started to stress. It took all my mental energy to force out the voice in my head that said “are you sure you want to be talking to this barely legal boy?”, and replace it with “of course I want to talk to him, I’m not searching for the love of my life here, just a tolerable enough guy for tonight”, and tolerable he was. He was from upstate New York, charming enough, and not so smart. Perfect recipe for a vacation fling. So I continued on.

An hour and a few drinks later, conversation started to die down, so we mosied on to the dance floor, and before long we were making out. In that moment, I was a mix of freaking out and freaking proud of myself. I mean, I spotted a guy, went up to him all alone, chatted, and now we were making out. I don’t know about you but in my books I call that “picking up”. What a success. I guess I’ve always had Slutty Study in my blood 😉

But then, a few minutes in, mid-dancefloor make-out, he asked:

“Wanna f*ck?”

Yes, he said that to me, or more like word-vomited it out. Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t expect any extreme chivalry from this young, not so classy kid, but I didn’t expect that! I mean, getting down on the dance floor could very possibly have led to some stateroom bow chica wow wow later on, but I was a little shocked to be asked flat out while we were upright, fully-clothed, and in public. Call me a prude, but most of all, I was way put-off by his choice of vocabulary. Damn. Would it have bothered you? Just to clarify, I wasn’t bothered enough to leave, just bothered enough to notice…! I smiled timidly and politely said, hmmm, maybe later?!

So we stayed on the dance floor for a little while longer and then decided to go sit down on some nearby couches. He led the way and when we sat down he turned to me and said:

“Man, did you see the way those *n-words* were looking at you? ”

But he said the actual word. That word.

I was speechless. No words. My ears were on fire and my heart started racing. He wasn’t trying to joke, and this wasn’t a rap song, neither of which would have been ok either. He really just referred to a group of people using (what I consider) the most offensive, loaded word in the English language. Maybe I’m privileged to be able to say this, but I had never witnessed such blatant racism live in front of my face, let alone with someone I had just made “friends” with a few hours earlier. Wow.

Horrified, I immediately questioned him about it but he just couldn’t see the problem with what he had said. His defense was that he caught the group of guys checking me out (and clearly felt threatened), and therefore thought it was a perfectly valid time to use that word. I tried to reason with him but it was quickly apparent that there was no use.

I told him that that is not something I could ever tolerate, and that I needed to leave. He was shocked and tried to change my mind, but I had already blocked him out, and to my own surprise, I had even become little nervous sitting there next to him. I got up while he was still talking and raced out, checking behind me to make sure that he was not following me. I was that freaked out. I got to my room and thank goodness my brother was up and I was able to tell him what happened and calm down a bit.

Luckily my siblings knew what he looked like so for the rest of our time on the cruise I had them on constant lookout so that I can walk away in case I ever saw him again. Thankfully it never came to that.

How’s that for a change in direction?  I’m sure you didn’t think that the story of my first time picking up in a bar would lead to the story of my first time meeting someone who thought racism was OK, I know I didn’t! And although I’m proud of the way I reacted and stood my ground in that situation, that experience was a huge reality check for me; it showed me although much progress has been made, racism still exists, and is not as far away from my little world as I may once have thought….




Yoga Guy (Finale)

If you missed the first parts of the Yoga Guy saga, see here, then here, and then here.

So I met him. Oh boy. Here’s how it went down:

We rescheduled to meet on Friday, so on Thursday night he texted (thank god) to confirm.  Mid-text it dawned on me that I truly had no idea who I would be looking for once I got to the bar the next day. I mean I tried to Facebook stalk him, Google him, even find him on LinkedIn and Instagram, but as you know, he was no where to be found. Seeing as I was about to meet the most untraceable person out there, I flat out asked him how I’ll know who he is when I get there. We were meeting after work on a Friday so it’s possible other guys would be hanging at the bar waiting to meet friends (and I’ll be sure to check each of them out too, don’t you worry).  He answered that he’ll be the one in a plaid blazer.

A plaid blazer?

I couldn’t tell if he was joking and I wasn’t sure if it was funny. What’s a plaid blazer? Is that some kind of hipster thing? Was it some kind of he doesn’t know how to dress thing? Of course him providing me with info on how to find him ended up confusing me even more, I’m starting to notice a pattern here….

Friday arrived and I woke up with a full-blown cold. A throat hurting, nose running, take 2 Advil Cold & Flu every 4 hours type of cold. But there was no way I was cancelling this date.  As I left work at 5 and raced to the bar where we were meeting, I realized that my Advil-induced 4 hour feel-better window was starting to close. Once I got there I rallied, took a deep breath, and walked in. The host told me that Yoga Guy was here and was sitting upstairs. Here goes nothing. I got upstairs and searched the room for a plaid blazer, but couldn’t find one. What I did find was the only guy sitting alone, so I went up to him and introduced myself. Thankfully it was him, and it was only once I was within 2 feet of him that I saw the microscopic “plaid” squares on his jacket- they were really more like checkers. In that moment I realized that stressing about what a plaid blazer said about him last night was 5 minutes of my life that I’ll never get back.

Anyway, I was about to sit down when I found myself oddly confused, and it took me a few seconds to realize why.  He was seated in a corner booth, and because the bar was pretty small, there were only the 2 corner spots to sit in, no chairs on the 3rd and 4th sides of the table. A little presumptuous, no doubt.  But the weird part is that he was sitting in neither of the 2 adjacent booth spots, he was sitting in the actual corner, which was not even a seat! I was sure because the corner of the table was jutting into his torso. So of course I was confused, he was sitting in neither seat AND in both seats all at the same time! No matter which side I chose to sit at I would have to turn my entire body around to face him. Awkward on top of awkward.

I finally sat down but because I was nervous I started talking incessantly, and because I was feverish I immediately popped my Advils with the only glass of water at the table, which I can only assume was his. I then apologized for speed talking while downing pills in his face with his water. Who’s the freak now?  Thankfully he laughed politely at my antics.

The rest of the date was fine, nothing earth-shattering, pretty much no chemistry, but still fine. He did have a cool story about how he had a small speaking role in a movie with a well-known actor, and spent a summer training with him (physically) for the role.  I later wondered if he told that story to every girl he went out with, like if that was his “first date story”. I then realized that I didn’t have a first date story- is that something people have? should I have one? I just assumed my tactics of being cute, charming, and cutting (when necessary) were enough to lure the boys in. Have I been doing it all wrong…? Maybe my milkshake wasn’t enough to bring all the boys to the yard… and that’s why I’m here writing this blog instead of a mommy blog. Damn.

Close to 2 hours in, the Kleenex I had been using the entire time was getting soggy and I was on the verge of being too tipsy to drive home, so we asked for the bill and headed out.  As we said our goodbyes he leaned in for a kiss kiss on the cheeks while also attempting to shake my hand, or at least take my hand, and I got so uncomfortable with both that I blurted out “you don’t want to touch me, I’ve been holding snot in my hand for the past 2 hours” (referring to my Kleenex). Well. That stopped him in his tracks. As he laughed in shock at the stupidity that came out of my mouth, he responded with “oh, and here I thought I was going to be all romantic”. ROMANTIC?! Romantic?! Dude it’s a first date, who said anything about romance? On a first date all I care about is making sure I can tolerate your stupid face. Save the “romance” for Valentine’s Day…. Luckily I was able to keep a straight face after he said that, and I thanked him for the drinks and ran away.

He texted me a few days later to ask how I was feeling, which was very nice of him, but the messages died out pretty quickly. I think it was clear to both of us that nothing would come of this. Looking back I think that his sole purpose in my life was to provide me with intrigue, entertainment, and hundreds of words-worth of blog posts, and for that I thank you, Yoga Guy.

Best of luck with your next phone call.


PS. Although I think Advil Cold and Flu is a miracle drug, this post was in no way sponsored by them. However, in the off-chance that you are reading this, Mr. Advil, have your people call my people 😉

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Call Me by Your Name

… looks like a great movie and I really want to see it.

On the topic of movies and calling people by names, you know those movies where two people are banging and the guy calls the girl by the wrong name?  Any time I’ve ever seen that I’ve thought a) does that really happen? and b) what would I do if it happened to me? Has it ever actually happened to you? I’m convinced it’s just a dramatic movie thing…. All this to say, I just experienced what I could only call the Millennial version of that very situation a few days ago, and I’ve since found myself equal parts offended and amused, but really more on the amused side 😉

So I had been chatting with a Happ’n guy for a few days, asking the usual “what do you do?”, “where are you from?”, “do you like it in the butt?” (KIDDING!!) questions back and forth, with him responding in fairly lengthy paragraphs every time. In my embarrassingly vast dating app experience, paragraph answers lead me to think that the guy is pretty into the whole dating thing and that he really cares to give a full and comprehensive response. Good on him, that’s pretty nice, though for a girl with a short attention span it tends to feel more like work than flirtatious fun, but that’s a topic for another day. Anyway, he had just finished telling me about his weekend when he reciprocated with “and how about you, Caterina?”.

Exqueeze me? baking powder?


I was so confused to see another girl’s name on MY screen that it took me a full 3 Mississippi’s to realize that he had called me by some other lucky girl’s name. Ha!!!!!  I was about to respond with more attitude than I even knew I had when I saw that he wrote 4 more messages after that one, realizing what he had written and apologizing profusely for it.  As my bitchiness began to subside I actually found myself feeling sorry for the poor sucker. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I would ever make that mistake, but I’ve definitely made other, equally careless mistakes in other aspects of my life, so I got it. And really, apart from that misstep, he and his paragraphs seemed decent enough, so I decided to cut him some slack and not respond as cuttingly as originally intended. I did, however, make him sweat it out until the next day before I wrote back. Hehe.

Once enough time had passed for him to worry that I may never write back I decided to craft my response.  While I was going to write something forgiving and understanding, I suddenly felt the need to also write something to put him in his place, to know that sure, you can make that mistake, but know that you’re not the only one dividing your attention among several other people on the app! Maybe it’s just me, but if I’m talking to someone, I at least want the illusion of feeling special, that I’m not just one of many gals giving you the time of day.

I finally responded with an easy-breezy mix of sarcasm and humour: “It’s ok Joe, I mean Mike,” his name was actually Paul, “we’re all talking to a bunch of people at the same time, it happens. I won’t write you off just yet ;)”

Looking back, it’s funny how HIS mistake made ME feel like I had lost some sort of upper-hand, and that I needed to win it back while still keeping him interested and wanting more.  Quite the balancing act. Is that normal? Is it a woman thing? Is it a woman-in-a-Time’s-Up-era thing? Am I over-reacting? Under-reacting? I guess I’m not as amused by this as I thought I was…

How would you have responded? Let me know in the comments below!

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Yoga Guy (update #2)

If you missed the first parts of the Yoga Guy saga, see here and then here.

The day after the unfortunate phone call with Yoga Guy, I found myself torn between trying to forget it had ever happened and looking him up on Facebook to see the face that went with that god-awful 15 minutes. I finally took the plunge and looked him up, but to my surprise I couldn’t find him. I tried various spellings of his first and last names, and nothing. I then searched through my sis-in-law’s Facebook friends to track him down, and still nothing. I figured this must be a job for Google, so I tried that and guess what? Nothing. I was in shock. In this day and age, it takes a lot of work to have ZERO digital footprint, and yet he’s managed it. Meanwhile, typing in my own name turns up every account, site and list that I’ve ever been on- pages and pages of hits! I wouldn’t know how to get rid of them all if I tried.
Very impressive Yoga Guy, very impressive.

Later on in the week I realized that I was no longer able to make our Tuesday date, so I wanted to contact him to reschedule ASAP.  I checked the Recent Calls in my phone to get his number so I can text him when I remembered that this whole thing started with his private number (in case you’re keeping count, he has a private number and no digital footprint- I was starting to get suspicious).  Anyway, I asked my sis-in-law for his number and to my for real, legitimate surprise, she said she didn’t have it, and sent me the only contact info she had, which was his email address. It felt a little intrusive to email this guy who I had spoken to just that one special time, so I figured I’d wait it out until I heard from him.  In the meantime, I noticed that his email address was his firstname_lastname@lastname.com, which seemed kind of fake if you ask me. Seriously dude, do you even really exist? Are you wanted in all 50 states?

A few nights later, I had finally managed to block this whole situation from my mind when I saw a missed call and voicemail from private number. Clearly Mr. Private Everything was calling to confirm our date. I checked my voicemail which, if you’re like me, you haven’t done since 2016, and thank goodness that a) I remembered my password, and b) he left me his number. I took it down and hung up faster than you can say shoot me so I wouldn’t have to hear another second of his PTSD-inducing voice. I then sent him a quick text about rescheduling our date (as if I was going to call, ha!) and felt instantly relieved that my job with this stupidity was done.


The message bounced right back! I wish I was joking but I swear I’m not. It said I had just voted for some participant to win some competition. Excuse me? What? Was I being Punk’d? Yes, that must be it. I proceeded to check my bathroom and my apartment corridor, but Ashton Kutcher was nowhere to be found. I just couldn’t catch a break. Maybe I was being punished…. like it was karma for being bitchy about this whole situation, though if that was the case then it was totally worth it 😉

So I resorted to sending an awkward email to the potentially fake address I had because what else was I supposed to do at this point, and explained that I’m a dummy who took down the wrong number from his voicemail and bla bla bla. To be honest I was a little embarrassed about having to email him at all, I mean who’s the loser now, amirite?  Thankfully it was the correct email address and he wrote back right away saying he was good to reschedule, and gave me his number again for next time.  I wrote it down next to the wrong number I already had, curious how wrong I had it the first time. Guess what. Very wrong. Every-single-digit-was-different type of wrong. Whaaat? After 3 full minutes of laughing so hard in disbelief that I was crying, I walked to my kitchen and poured myself an Olivia Pope sized glass of wine.

Here’s to you, Yoga Guy, you better not disappoint.

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