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I impose the most rules, restrictions, and justifications in my life.
As the chief lawmaker of my own village, I abide by a somewhat irrational code of conduct.
In addition to passing judgment, people make assumptions about what I like, how I feel, and what I eat.
It’s always strange and amusing when a man is shocked to learn that I’m successful in my career, drive a new car, live in a nice home, etc.
Another I will never forget, but not because it was so tactful: “I would have sex with you, but I’d never be able to introduce you to my friends or family.” I’m not an alien!
In fact, I happen to be a very friendly person with a solid sense of humor.
Those are the guys who “really love a cuddler” and couldn’t care less about getting to know you.
“If I wear this long jacket and stand just so, no one will even realize how overweight I am.” “If the lighting at the restaurant is dim enough, I can totally get away with this top.” “If I wear these heels, my legs will look slimmer. ” “If I make self-deprecating jokes about the size of my ass and make him laugh, he’ll fall in love with my sense of humor.” “If I show up later in the evening, all the beautiful people will have gone home.” “If I show up earlier in the evening, all the beautiful people won’t be there yet.” “If he isn’t interested, it’s fine — who meets their soulmate in a bar anyway? In a very pragmatic way, it is also actually physically hard to meet someone in Los Angeles.
Our bars and restaurants are crowded, and I hate being the big girl trying to squeeze into a booth or through the room. Asking a restaurant hostess to move my party to another table because I literally could not fit into it.
I don't know why, but I finally felt like sharing it.
Finding love is always challenging, but it’s especially hard in a city with tunnel-vision-like focus on appearance for someone who doesn’t match the high standards set for beauty in Los Angeles.