The other night, completely unaware of being profiled for field research, the guy I’m seeing brought up an interesting topic. He pointed out that, when you meet somebody, they have the most potential they ever will to you. You are able to project almost any image upon them, envision them however best suits your ideals. Then, as you get to know them better, you begin discovering that they are a real person, with a life, a formed identity, and a myriad of personality traits that you may not be prepared for, a realization that can inadvertently lead to a certain level of disappointment. (Ahem, should I be taking this personally?! Am I not the flaxen-haired, carefree goddess he met in on one drunken night in Williamsburg?)

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Dear loyal readers, you will have to excuse me for my recent laziness. However, I have a valid excuse, as I am currently in New York City, experiencing an ongoing case of FOMO x ADD. From foods made out of alien super food ingredients, to clothing from every brand under the sun, to a seemingly insatiable pool of men in (occasionally poorly cut) suits, New York presents a land of endless options that make focusing on just one thing damn near impossible.

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There is nothing like some old-school advice. As much as our ludicrous generation likes to believe that it unlike no other, forced to deal with the life-altering challenges of economic uncertainty and Tinder dating, I have a news flash for you – human beings, in their essence, are still the same. One has to look no further than hilarious Instagram account of Crazy Jewish Mom and her stream-of-consciousness wisdom, which often rings truer than any new-age-hippie-nonsense that you will find permeating the Internets. Hence, rather than listening to the advice of Kim K and her band of delinquents, I encourage you to seek the invoice to your dear mothers, who have gone through life and hence know a thing or two about how the world works. Last year, I quizzed my friends on the best relationship tips their mothers ever gave them, resulting in one of my favorite articles to this day. With one week left until Mothers Day, I would love to hear from you guys on the best relationship advice your mom’s ever given you! Please email me at dbagdating@gmail.com and I will publish it next Sunday! Bonus perk: you get to show your mom that the wisdom she taught you made it on a blog called Dbag Dating – how’s that for a Mother’s Day gift?

“Why are you so weird?”

It has recently come to my attention that I am a terrible blogger, lacking the selfies, tweets, and other ADD-inducing micro-content that makes the World Wide Web the colorful place that it is. While you will have to wait for an OOTD post (probably, forever), I will indulge in some narcissism by creating a little bulletin board in which you guys can post any question you would like answered!

While I doubt that I am that much of an enigma, perhaps there is something about this walking disaster of a human that piques your curiosity? Or, perhaps, you would simply like me to dispatch some terrible dating advice? If so,  write your question in the comments section and I will answer directly!

You can also email me at dbagdating@gmail.com and I might make a nice anonymous post out of it!

And remember, there are no stupid questions, but only truly idiosyncratic answers, which you are most definitely guaranteed!

There is an old Russian saying: “A man has to be slightly better-looking than a monkey”. This implies that a man must not be evaluated by his looks, but appreciated for his more Alpha qualities, such as brains, generosity, and hard work – attributes that will benefit a woman’s happiness in the long term. Without the crutch of conventional good looks, a man will have to work harder on earning a woman’s love and affection, hence appreciating her more once he finally wins her over. Good-looking men, particularly those who are all-too-aware of it, are considered to be a recipe for disaster, a freeway to a lifetime of speculation and paranoia about the whereabouts of a philandering Don Juan. This, for you, is Russian female pragmatism.

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In a turn of events that my friends have proclaimed to be “inevitable”, I recently found myself on a date with a much older man. While we won’t yet dwell on the pros and cons of dating somebody who was wrapping up high school while I was still in the Teletubbies stage, I will definitely attribute this as being one of the more interesting dates I’ve had in awhile, as evidenced in the following tidbit of our conversation alone.

Over a tea at Café de la Poste (neither of us were drinking, myself for cleansing purposes, him for unknown elderly purposes), he gave me a brief autobiographical overview of the past 20+ years of his life. After an unsuccessful stint with marriage, he had gone through a series of long-term girlfriends, and was now happily célibataire (single), enjoying a fulfilling existence of creative friends, athletic endeavors, explorative travel, and a newfound interests in astrology. Hearing my age – 28 – he exclaimed, not without a dose of sarcasm: “Oh yes, that within the age that I actually have a real interest in women –  28 to 33. The 23-year-olds are starting to feel a bit immature.” If I wasn’t sure before, then it was crystal clear now – I was dealing with a real, certified Eternal Bachelor. No longer capable of containing myself, I made a backhanded comment about all-too-afmiliar with “his type”, leading to me pulling up the article for us to analyze together. The parallels being endless, we had a good laugh.

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