If we kept this up, we would either grow to hate everything about what made us different, or grow to hate ourselves.
Earlier this year, I was feeling miserable and lonely, an attitude I chalked up to my recent dating pattern—I pursue creative, East-side-Los Angeles riotgrrrl types; they reject me. I wasn’t sick of the women, but I was sick of failing with them. In my self-deprecating scientiﬁc opinion, I determined that I was ofﬁcially “not cool enough,” that I needed to “grow” and “expand my horizons.” I decided to embark on a bit of a dating experiment.
Fast-forward a week to a typical Wednesday night at the Cha Cha Lounge. Things that have changed: nothing. I was doing exactly what I said I wasn’t going to do anymore: chasing the usual crowd. That’s when Miranda offered to buy me a drink. After deciding to go after something different but taking absolutely no steps toward that end, I had been rewarded for my inaction. Did I use The Secret? What is The Secret? Did I just use it?!