krembetch, he gets a name


Okay, I had a spontaneous Bumble date last night and it was such a blast! We had 3 drinks over 5 hours, then went to the midnight movie. Yay. Gonna see him again Friday. So that’s fun.😎 Fellow Gemini♊️, spontaneous, former atheist now Zen Buddhist raised in Bible Belt Alabama📿, liberal, gentleman, funny😄, musician and filmmaker that has a steady job🎞, super cute😍 (way cuter in real life and every time I left and had to re-identify where he was in scanning the room I’d think “Wow, that guy over there is so cute. Oh wait, I’m with that guy!”), incredible hand-holder and kisser😙. Oh, and he has an Instagram, my phone just told me followed me📷. And he seems to have a genuinely good heart with pure motives💝. All great ingredients for a fella worthy of my attention in my book (well, blog LOL).📖 And he gives me energy, I could barely keep up with him and my thoughts.✨✨ Can’t wait to see him again. Might even refer to him by his real name. So that’s something(?).


Krembetch! Ahhhgghhh! I can’t remember if I Snapchatted you this or not last night – it shows a message was sent but God knows what it was – so I apologize in advance if this is repeat information but I met a legit awesome Bumble boy! Well, more like a man. #RareIKnow We grabbed drinks after just a few exchanges, which led to a midnight movie, and we wrapped up the evening after about seven hours. I figured if all went well, it would’ve been capped at two. Talk about fun! He’s so fucking amazing. Cute as hell, more of a creative type (which I dig), excellent conversationalist, excellent kisser, and even more-excellenter hand-holder. It’s exhilarating to have my brain moving at 47 billion miles an hour again. I’ve missed this. It’s nice to want to write, want to sing, want to dance and spin and overthink and underthink, and want to do all at once in a way that makes me insane. The way I look at it is if my mental train of thought has me on the verge of a psychological breakdown, I must be on the right track because the next stop is always a personal breakthrough. Sanity-concerning ramblings aside, I think I’m gonna post a blog about him.

You should do it. You know I love a good blog post.

What’s that term in photography? Where the lighting is just right and there’s a softness yet brilliance to everything? The golden snapshot moment when views are magical, fresh, and there’s no expectations, just endless possibility, so even though you’re on cloud nine at the end of the night and things fizzle out to a ghosting or rejection text, and there’s just the screenshot of his Bumble profile you have to delete, not any co-captured memories? Whatever it’s called, that’s where I’m at, and I need to write about him now before I get too in my head about it all. We’ve already lined up a next date! I get to go on a second date with a dude from Alabama who lives in Nashville who acts like he’s from Silver Lake who loves hipster coffee as much as I do. #WinningCombo

Yes! I like that for you. Every bit of all of that.


He’s a Gemini! And I swear to God he has more thoughts on any given subject than I do at any given moment. Well, he might have more resolve, so more firmly planted thoughts, but he’s quicker than I am. And he talks more than I do. Roomie’s eyes got really big when I shared this bit of information. For her Pisces soul, I’m sure the mere imagining of us two in a room is too much to be considered a desirable place to mentally be (for her, not for me). By the way, she also hates that I use the word “soul” when I describe people, and isn’t nearly fascinated by astrology as I somehow am this month, but we’re different, and I’m different, and here I go off on another unrelated tangent. #GeminiTendencies The point I’m trying to make about this guy is there’s the frenetic, fiery, friendly feel I get when I think about our fraternizing, and it has me reciting various alliterative lines just like this one in my head on repeat when I try to put my ponderings on paper.

Two Geminis? That’s like four extremely chatty people. That’s not a date; that’s a party. Differences are good and all when it comes to our friends, but it’s nice when you click with someone who can see things like you do, even if just for one date. Reassuring of the whole “Okay, maybe I’m not crazy. Or at least it’s nice to know there’s other crazies in the world.”

He’s so fascinating. He, too, grew up in that whole Bible-thumping, old-school Southern Christian world that I’ve since had to comes to terms with as part of my story. But I love that other people have a similar story, and that they too are finding their way despite the off-kilterness of it all. And I think it sounds like his affections for his folks could be the same as mine, where they’re coming from a intendedly good place, but are just way off. You know how that goes. Like they probably voted for Trump and think building walls and arming teachers will make America great again, and discussing that you donate to Everytown for Gun Safety to combat their donations to the NRA over Christmas dinner will ultimately end in silent fury. #GottaLoveParents Also, he’s a Zen Buddhist and more yoga, less football kinda dude. That’s my jam right there. When I described him to a friend, her response was “He’s Buddhist but not even Asian, and he’s a guy from Alabama who doesn’t even like football!” Those were the con column takeaways from our talk she gathered as I tried to craft a conversational pro-con list with her while in my dreamy there-are-no-cons state. Ugh. WTF kind of objections are those? I find these to be selling points.

Who says you have to be Asian to be Buddhist? If anything, not being born into the practice demonstrates research, inquisition, and personal spiritual consideration. And put a check in the pro column from me if he doesn’t like football, and one more for not liking it when he ‘should’. I like this guy. He sounds chill.

He’s on board with my CrossFit callouses! I’m crazy insecure about them but he says “I like them. It shows you do things with your hands, and that’s beautiful.” or something similar to that. Beyond the callouses, I think the phrase “perfectly proportioned” was used in reference to my figure. That includes my massive thighs, right? How could he not think they’re massive? And he pointed out how cute I am and how I do this thing where I stick out my tongue that’s darling to him, which if you’ve seen my latest #TBT Instagram post, seems to be a trait I’ve carried from childhood. Oh yeah, he’s on Instagram. As we’ve covered, seems not having an IG account has been a trending major red flag across my own dating life and yours. So all is clear there!

What’s his Instagram handle? I wanna look him up. And you and your legs, girl. You’ve always had a thing about your legs, but you shouldn’t. Have some Kesha-led pride in your strong #thickthighsbrowneyes self, my deep-down-I’m-still-a-child Rainbow album-obsessed friend.

He said next time he sees me (karaoke date, which makes sense, as he is/was a musician like me, which is another pro column mark), he has a book he wants to lend me to read. He wants to know what I think about it, and I’m sure he’s all chill about it but I know my answer will mean something. #NotMyFirstLitmusTest His book test is my Friends test, of the “You didn’t laugh when Rachel screwed up the trifle, and that’s honestly a deal breaker.” essence. Which, by the way, is a test he not only passed but earned extra credit on as he perfectly recited the next moments in the scene. Now let’s see if I can similarly deliver after my reading of this book.

Even if you don’t pass the test, that’s what it’s there for: to weed out non-keepers. Can you imagine being with someone who you could never make Friends references around? I think they call that place hell. You don’t wanna go there.


He’s not suffocating, and he’s seemingly genuine. I hope it works out. If it doesn’t, we’re right on the verge of spring, and in the event I’m the one that’s heartbroken (not the other way around as this scenario only works under these conditions) in the likely-inevitable end, I will be able to eat ice cream for breakfast and still manage to slim down just in time for leg-baring summer. #SilverLining Roomie says this isn’t a healthy way to approach a potential relationship – more-so the planned anticipation of how to handle inevitableness rather than how it’ll be handled – but I disagree, even if she is right.

The silver lining of the end of dating someone is Jeni’s for breakfast and an excuse for some new Gap clothes at a size smaller. My jeans are tight. I’m due for heartbreak. Hmm, maybe I should download Bumble again.


The takeaway in all this is that he’s been such an extreme delight. If this continues on, which I anticipate it will, I think I’ll actually use his real name, not some fictitious one I make up as a way to distance myself from getting too personal and vulnerable. That’s gotta be a healthy sign of…of something. Right?

That’s a great place to be. Wait, what’s his name?


2 thoughts on “krembetch, he gets a name

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