This blog is described as “Perspectives on being single in the San Francisco Bay Area.”
But who am I? And who am I to be considered an authority on the matter?
I’m really fucking not. I’ve only had two serious relationships in my adult life, one of which spanned almost eight years. Dating is something that is of particular interest to me given the novelty of it all now, but I am by no means an expert. Upon hearing the number of relationships, including flings, I’d had, one of my dates said:
That’s like basically zero.
Aside from that treasure trove of knowledge (read: not), my credentials include a healthy respect for comediennes of our time. I especially enjoy those who challenge our ideas about race, identity, and womanhood. There is a real need for more, diverse individuals giving voice to the female experience in an age after Sex and the City.
Honestly, I couldn’t really relate to those white ladies. That or fucking Gilmore Girls.
Without rehashing my dating app bios, I am straight-ish cis-woman (pronouns are she and her) in my late twenties, Asian-American, have a couple degrees, and am in a complicated relationship with my body— we’re in an ongoing debate as to whether 105 lbs is too fat or not. I’ve also experienced a few shitty things that prompted me to take on blogging as a project towards healing.
As my verbiage here may suggest, I also talk a shit ton. I like to think this makes for an entertaining first date, but have perhaps deluded myself into taking smiling nods for amusement. In reality, my date is probably silently pondering, “Is this chick gonna get with me or what?”