The COVID Diaries: How Many Cat Pictures Do You Take in a Day?

Guess what, Darling Ones?

Today is actually Singles’ Day, not yesterday. I thought yesterday was the 11th. I was wrong. I already fixed the error in yesterday’s post so you don’t have to correct me again.

In honor of Singles’ Day, today, 11/11, I got asked out on a date. I said no, of course. We’re in the middle of a pandemic that is running amok and I’m not gonna risk my life to makeout of with some blue-eyed silver fox (BESF) I never met before*. And, I was definitely not going to go over to his house where he offered to cook me dinner because I don’t want to be murdered.

For a situation that could have ended in my death in two distinct, but not at all far-fetched ways, I’m pumped. He took my no very well, but noped out of the conversation pretty quickly after that, which is fair. I’d have done the same. He did say he was a patient and it was a standing offer, but… then he got angry because I wasn’t “certain” enough about wanting to date and I don’t even know what that means.

Still, it was nice to be reminded for a hot second that some men find me attractive because I am smart and make good with the words and I have lucky, pretty eyes. It’s like when I have business meetings with new people and I say stuff regarding the things I know and when I get done with the meeting I’m all “high five, I know things!” I don’t actually high five myself because that would be embarrassing, but I do say high five, which is some how less so.

Jodi Ann Chromey, you might be thinking, didn’t you just complain yesterday about deleting Tinder because it depressed you? To that I would say, shut up. I did delete Tinder, but then I downloaded Bumble. What part of stupid lonely did you not understand? However, I’m probably gonna delete Bumble too, because here’s what I’ve learned: dating Apps depress me. I feel like they’re a weird Sears Catalog of humans and we’re supposed to judge them based on a few sentences and a picture. Bleh.

While I do take great pride in putting a lot of effort into accurately conveying my personality through the written word (that is obvious right? RIGHT? Please tell me this is obvious), I have a caustic and intimidating personality and men are easily intimidated. You pair this with my body, which is frequently fetishized, and it’s a nightmare.

Can’t we just go back to the olden days when we would just makeout with people who read our blogs? Ellen Willis**, that was better than this.

The B-ESF asked me what I was looking for, and I said, “idk.” Just kidding, I spelled out all the words because I’m a grownup. This is a little bit of a lie, because what I want is someone to listen to me talk about how I’m really into radishes this year and how the book The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue is breaking my heart. I want someone to be as curious about me as I am about them. The one good thing about me is that if you can hold up your end of the conversation I will find you endlessly fascinating and make sure you know it, even if you don’t want to kiss me.

But that felt too weird to say, so I didn’t.

Hoo. That got way more honest than I was anticipating. I mostly came here today to ask you how many pictures of your pets you take in a day? I take a bajillion. All the pictures up there at the top of this letter were taken today. I only shared two of them, one with The Wedding Party group chat and one with twitter.

I miss not having a dedicated person who had to look at all my pictures and listen to me talk about radishes. It was nice having someone recognize my existence every day.

Going to stop talking about radishes now to go eat some.

Love you lots,

*If you are a fox of any eye or hair color that I have met before we can totally makeout, come on over if you’re COVID-free.

**I don’t know about God, but I do know about Ellen Willis and she is my deity of choice.

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