When Bumble Gives you Lemons

When Bumble gives you lemons, you slather on so much SPF it blocks you from all the D. I have been striking out hard with this app. I just don't think I'm going to find better than Rachel on Bumble... yup... gonna marry Rachel, my roommate. She's not too down for it, but I'm a kickass cook, so there's that.

Recently I've been on two dates (yes, only two since I stepped in dog poop. How long ago was that!?) And both have not been successful, and both were Harvard grads. Dear Harvard, you're producing some cuties, but I think you guys need to perform some personality checks. 

I never thought I was super into politics, nor did I think political differences would be my dealbreaker but turns out, they are. Through dating, I have found growing up in a lower income city, as a minority racially and religiously, attending an all women's college (in Boston), I'm super liberal. Who would have guessed? I began talking to this guy on Bumble; tall, handsome, Harvard Medical Grad, great connection, awesome conversation, did I luck out? Did I hit the Jackpot? What's wrong with this fella? Two words: Trump Supporter. One thing I love about Bumble, you have to build a connection before meeting in person, and there's something penpal-ish about it. We began chatting on the app, then talked on the phone one night for two hours about movies. I was so excited to meet this man in person, and then he announced he was a Trump supporter, didn't regret it, and planned to vote for him again. I was floored. I feel anyone else would respectfully get up away from the date, and call it a night. I proceeded with the date and argued the entire time. I'm a real joy.

The main issue was, every finishing line to his argument was "I'm a Harvard Grad, I know what I'm talking about, I've proved people wrong, #changmymind." Not those exact words, but I could tell, he would never hear me out, on anything. He could pull up articles and quotes at the speed of light, and all I could quote with ease and grace was John Oliver's Last Week Tonight. I felt like an idiot all because I didn't have my bibliography on hand: he came prepared. The date, in general, took every left turn imaginable: he picked a nightclub to meet (which I made us leave), Trump was the main topic, and somehow the "Nazi findings of the inexistence of climate change" also came up. NEVER TALK ABOUT NAZIS TO A JEWISH GIRL ON A FIRST DATE! Everything I believed in, trusted with my gut, tried discussing, was challenged and put down. To make things worse as I called for my uber, he tried a last-ditch attempt: "You're leaving? I just feel we would have really hot sex." DO YOU?! Because I just picture showering with acid after that scenario. Also, earlier in the evening I made a "grabbing pussies" joke, and after seeing I was insulted by his suggestion he said: "What? You're the one who talked about your pussy." My response: "IT WAS A FUCKING TRUMP JOKE! KNOW YOUR OWN LEADER'S STATEMENTS AND FOLLOW HIM ON FUCKING TWITTER!" I'm so eloquent with my words and sources. 

So dating is going well.

Thankfully, I'm currently on a work trip travelling through Europe, a much-needed semi-vacation. I've packed my Lemon Swimsuit, my straw hat, and my Bare Republic colorful sunscreen. Bare Republic is a fun way to apply SPF: great for kids or music festivals. They have tons of colors that you can literally paint on your body, but just a wearing, it does go on very thick.