Dating is Hell

…and I've already heard Satan's pick up line

Prime Time

Age is just a number, right? In the dating world, that's not really true. Or at least in my world it's not! Dating in your 20s is much different than dating in your mid to late 30s. Back in my 20s, dating was a little more fun and carefree. Did I care what he did for a living? Nope. Did I care whether or not he wanted children? Absolutely not. Did I need to know his last name? Well maybe… but not necessarily. Now it's all about: does he have a good job? Does he want children? Does he still live with roommates or <gasp> his parents?

Back in my 20s there was the false confidence of makeup, tight outfits, high heels, and alcohol. That's now been replaced with the true fears of getting older, thinking I'm no longer in my prime, my body no longer fitting into tight outfits, and no longer being able to hold my liquor. I don't even really know when all that changed. Actually, it probably changed around the time my friends started getting married. There were fewer and fewer trips to bars and clubs where all you did was exchange numbers with a hot guy and more and more of dating websites where you had to fill out a checklist of what you want. Not to mention all the birthdays that have passed since I was in the bar scene. It's "grown up" dating now. I feel like I have to know more about my potential date, more about the kids thing, and what job they have, and what their living situation is because at this age, I don't want to waste my time or someone else's. But when I see the profile of a cute guy that has similar interests but it also says "looking to settle down and start a family", I'm automatically swiping left. Then a little voice in my head scolds me because isn't that the whole point of dating? But why, exactly? Do I even want to get married? A wedding? Hell yes. A marriage? Hmmm…. maybe not. The thing with being a chronically single person is that you get used to your independence and being "selfish". Do I want to share half of my closet with someone? Not really. Do I want to share a bed with someone who moves around a lot, steals the blankets, and snores? Honestly? No. Do I want someone making noise when I want some quiet time? I'll fucking cut you. Do I want someone to have dinner ready for me when I get home after working 12-14 hours? Abso-fucking-lutely. So maybe I want a personal chef more than a husband. But then again… Do I want to have the fuzzy-butterflies in the stomach-can't stop smiling-true love? Sigh. Yeeeeaaaahhhh. I've read too many trashy romances and watched too many sappy romantic movies to not want it.

So I have a little voice in my mind telling me I shouldn't still be single. So what? Well there's also pressure from friends and family. Not totally on purpose pressure, but pressure nonetheless. When you're single in your 20s you're: having fun! Not ready to settle down! Playing the field! When you're single in your late 30s you are: dating a married man! Too picky! An old maid! A lesbian! THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD WHO IS STILL SINGLE! Some people might never have thought these things about me but others definitely have. I'm going to take a few minutes to address these:

  • Dating a married man: just because you haven't heard me talking about a boyfriend or dating in general does not mean I'm dating a married man and thus cannot discuss it. There's either nothing to discuss or I just don't feel like discussing it.
  • Too picky: it's possible. But I'm not giving up my independence for anything less than perfection and true love!!! (Audience groans). Ok, ok. How about imperfections I can live with and love that I think will last? Is that better?
  • An old maid: I did have a whole Twitter thread with myself about how if we were in the olden days when an old maid was actually a thing, I'd be rocking it.

Truth be told, being an old maid and not having the right to vote and getting polio or the plague and being stuck in the 1800s is actually NOT better than going to a wedding sans date. The wedding in question was beautiful, the food was good, and the music was perfect. Oh, and my table totally won the dance off . Now where was I? Oh yes…

  • A lesbian: seeing as how you are born gay, why is it that people only think I'm a lesbian when I'm getting a little long in the tooth but am still single? It's kind of insulting to the lesbians, don't you think? You're making it seem like only lesbians are old and unmarried. Seeing as how I know a bunch of lesbians and most of them are married, I think it's safe to say that "being single" doesn't equal "being gay". And I'd like to think that if I was gay, I'd be out and proud by now.
  • THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD WHO IS SINGLE: Oh yeah. I feel this one a lot. Did you happen to catch the part in my Twitter old maid rant that my youngest cousin just got married? And that's my mom's side of the family. On my dad's side, my youngest cousin has been married for years. I also recently went to a BBQ at my best friend's house and I was literally the only single adult person there. LITERALLY. So yeah, even though I know this is far from the truth, I still feel alone being single when all my friends are married.

What conclusion can we come to? Am I ok with being alone for the rest of my life? Sometimes. Do I desperately want to get married? Sometimes. But sometimes I feel like I'm still in my prime, my biological clock is non-existent (thank god), and it's ok if I have no idea what I want. I'll figure it out eventually… or not.


What Makes A Woman Beautiful?

I’m going to pick on a friend right now (sorry if you’re reading this, dude). Said friend went to Europe and this is what he posted when he got back:

And that kinda pissed me off, reading this while wearing no makeup except for whatever mascara had managed to last my 13+ hour day, in my dirty scrubs, and in my sneakers that still had some blood on them from earlier that day that I couldn’t clean off.  Yes, I understand that this is work attire and not what he was referring to. But you know what? After 12 years of wearing scrubs, sneakers, and barely any make up, I feel bad for the women who have to get dressed up for work. Dressy clothes can be so uncomfortable. Thankfully, my clients really don’t care if I’m wearing make up and have my hair done when I’m performing CPR on their pet. Also, I’ve gotten to the point that the last thing I want to do when I’m not at work is to wear anything constricting. My body is just not used to it anymore! Let’s break this down:

1.) Heels. Quoting one of my favorite movies “She’s the Man”:

Well? Have you tried running in heels, guys? Just walking and standing in them can be problematic. Twice a year I attend a conference to represent my hospital. I get dressed up and put makeup on because that’s what people expect. But after a few years I gave up on the heels. It’s just not worth it! I’m not going to hurt myself to fit what society has deemed “professional” or “attractive”. Have any of you gentlemen ever been told “beauty is pain”? Not jokingly, but seriously like a parent, or friend telling you to stop whining about the pain you’re in because it’ll all be worth it when you’re “beautiful”? This is what women are taught, basically from birth. I’m not even going to bother giving you the numbers on how many doctors have warned about the negative effects of wearing heels on our feet and backs because can google it yourself. Go for it. I’ll wait.

2.) Hair. I’ve heard it and read it a million times: guys like girls with long hair. Well guess what? I like myself better with short hair! But everybody thinks they need to tell me that they prefer my hair long. Family, hair stylists, and even perfect strangers: 

I love unsolicited advice about my looks! Did I ask for your opinion? Nope. When a hair stylist tries to convince me to leave my hair long… uh, did I ask for your recommendation? Nope. Btw, I’d just like to say that I’m getting my hair done as we speak with my amazing stylist (hey girl!) who supports me in my decision to go short without trying to talk me out of it. Because it’s MY hair. And it’s what I like. So what if “most” guys like long hair? There’s some out there who like it! You know how I know? I know women who have – get this – met men, dated them, and married them, all while having short hair!!!! AMAZING!!! Besides, I already have to get up at 5:30am to get to work. There’s now way I’m getting up any earlier to mess with my hair. Fuck that, I like my sleep.

3.) Make up. I’m not going to lie. Doing elaborate makeup can be fun. I myself enjoy doing it for special occasions or if I’m in the mood. I used to do it all the time when I was younger. I did it because it was fun but also because I felt like I needed to do it to attract guys. Now that I’m older, I just don’t feel like all the fuss is worth it. Guys are always complaining about how long it takes women to get ready. Well it’s society’s fault! You’ve convinced us that we can’t leave the house without a face full of makeup! Do you know how long that takes??? And the upkeep to make sure it still looks good by the end of the day??? And the specials potions and cloths we have to buy to take it all off at the end of the night??? Life is too short to spend it in the bathroom “getting ready”. I’m not saying people who wear makeup every day are doing anything wrong. You want to do it? Do it! You like how you look wearing it? Great! What pisses me off is that women are EXPECTED to wear it, and they are told that their natural self, that they have been born with, is not beautiful. Even my 4 year old niece has been brainwashed. She plays with fake “makeup” and pretends to put it on. She watches TV shows with girls wearing a ton of makeup (CARTOON girls for god sakes). How does that not mess with your head?

4.) Clothes. Girls, wear what you want. I want to emphasize the YOU in that sentence. I like looking at beautiful dresses but I hate wearing them. It limits the ways you can sit. Plus, I’ve got two words for you: chub rub. You can google that too. Now, the most important factor that I use to choose my clothes is comfort. Like leggings. Hello comfort!!!! And you can get them in crazy patterns. I’m obsessed with them. I wish I could wear them all the time. It might just be because I’m older but I just don’t want to wear uncomfortable clothes that are more “attractive”.  

Unfortunately you can’t always fight society. Tonight I’m going to a fancy restaurant with my family for my mom’s birthday. I’m already exhausted at the idea of putting on make up and fancy clothes. But I have to because otherwise it will seem rude. Because you can’t wear leggings or jeans to a fancy restaurant. And you can’t wear pj pants for your mom’s birthday dinner. Why not? Because society tells us so.

“…of course, in every dragon myth half the problem is the princess.” Sarah Dunant 

I will admit that this blog is very one sided. Reading it, you might think that the majority of guys suck. A lot of them do, I’m not denying that, but like they say, it takes two to tango. My single status is just as much my fault as it is the guy’s fault. I am far from perfect. I’m extremely independent. I can be a little too intense. I’m a know-it-all. And last but certainly not least: I suffer from verbal diarrhea when I’m nervous. For the first time, I will be sharing a dating story where I’m the one who put the hell in “Dating is Hell”. 

I matched with a guy on Bumble. We had some great conversations and he was able to keep up with my witty banter. He was pretty much perfect for me, at least on paper. He was a liberal, atheist, vegetarian who didn’t want kids. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that I wore an arm sling on our first date and that I had to order food that could be eaten using only one hand (it’s a long story). 

Our first two dates went well. Our third date was a little while coming due to my being out of the country, my insane work schedule, and his commitments to friends/family. We finally had a time when we were both free: Saturday from 11am-1pm. I suggested that we take our dogs for a hike. Oh, did I not mention he had a dog? Check that item off the “perfect boyfriend” list. That morning, after working 53 hours in 5 days, I woke up with a sore throat. I would be damned if I was to cancel this date! So I went anyway. When we met at the trail head, I told him I wasn’t going to hug him because I was coming down with a cold. So date three and there was to be no touching? He didn’t seem disappointed in any way but I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled to know that I was A.) most likely not going to hug/kiss him and B.) germ infested.

In any case, we start the hike in good spirits. There were quite a few mosquitoes out and we were talking about how we would have to check for ticks after the walk. I asked him if his dog was on flea and tick preventatives year round. He says no, that she’s only on them during the summer. There’s an alarm going off in my brain. My inner voice says: don’t do it! Don’t lecture him about flea and tick preventatives! That’s a sure-fire way to annoy someone. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I only had his dog’s best interest in mind though! She was just so cute and I didn’t want her to get a tick borne disease!!! So it happened. The verbal diarrhea. The word vomit. I told him all about the tick life cycle and the diseases they transmit and why his dog needs to be on preventatives year-round. Basically the only person who could be turned on by this would be my flea and tick preventatives rep (hey girl!). 

“Ok,” I tell myself. “It’s over and done with. Let’s just move on.” But no. It’s not. He brings up heartworm preventatives. “She’s not on that year round either???” Oh boy. Here comes another bout of diarrhea. One of the dogs I adopted turned out to be positive for heartworms. The treatment is expensive and super painful. It broke my heart to see my usually hyperactive and friendly dog hunker down in the back of a cage in pain. So cue up the slides, we’re on to lecture #2! Maybe I should hire someone to follow me around on dates and slap me in the face when I start doing this crap!

Moving right along… we are on a trail called “Hidden Pond”. At this point we had been walking for a while and had yet to see any signs of a pond. And then we hear it: “I hear a frog, we must be getting close!” He says “yeah, that was either a frog or a goose.” “DON’T DO IT!!!!” yells the little voice in my head. “KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!!!! And do I? Of course not. Verbal diarrhea can be like actual diarrhea: sometimes you just can’t keep it in. “Actually, that is a frog, not a goose. I took herpetology in college.” 🤦🏻‍♀️ Oh yeah. I did it. I went there. 

Awesome. Just awesome. At this point it’s pretty hot out and we’re sweating. I’m starting to think the whole “hidden pond” thing is a lie. The state park people have hidden speakers that play frog sounds to make you think you’re getting close but in reality there is no pond. Kind of like my dating skills. They do not exist.

The trail is narrow most of the way so we can’t walk side by side. There are frequent moments of silence. My mouth cannot abide that. It feels like I was put on this earth to kill all moments of silence. I MUST KILL THE SILENCE (unless we’re watching a movie, in which case, quit your yapping before I cut you). So really it’s not my fault. It’s my destiny. You can’t fight destiny. 

Honestly, I don’t remember most of the stuff I yammered on about. All I can remember is sweating my ass off and being unable to stop talking. The more I talked, the more nervous I got, so the more I talked. It’s a vicious cycle indeed.

Back at our cars at the end of our hike (the pond was never found, by the way) we each give our dogs water to drink and we stand in silence. Ugh! What to do now?!?! The phlegm from my burgeoning cold has increased so I can’t even go in for a hug to bring this disaster to an end. I might not even have done that were I healthy because of the sweat. I pet his dog and talk to her. He remains silent. There’s literally crickets. I decide to just put myself out of my misery and say my goodbyes. 

So far, we’ve continued to text here and there. To say that the conversations have been lackluster is an understatement. He doesn’t seem like he’s dying to see me again, and I can’t say I blame him. Cue the movie “He’s Just Not That Into You”. Play it on repeat. 

So maybe the moral of this tale is that I just need to find the Imodium to my verbal diarrhea. I think I’ll include that in my dating profile… just kidding. Maybe. 

If You Don’t Have Anything Nice to Say…

I’ve seen it all, folks. And then I saw it a few more times. Now, it really baffles me why people feel the need to go out of their way to be mean or insult a perfect stranger. Do they get their kicks from it? Does it make them feel better about themselves? Are they just doing it to get a rise out of a person for the sole purpose of FINALLY getting someone to respond to a message? Because they can’t possibly be the type of person people are drawn to, right?  So here’s another wonderfully insulting message I received:

My choice to wear a nose ring is exactly that. MY CHOICE. I don’t care if you think I look ridiculous. I like it. Just like the clothes I wear. Or my tattoos.

Speaking of my tattoos, I’m going to go on a little tangent here. I just love it when people (including family members) say they don’t like my tattoos. I didn’t get my tattoos for them. The only difference between my nose ring or my clothes is that they are permanent representations of things that I love or things that mean something special/important to me. So thanks for insulting me, basically.
So anyway, back to the topic at hand. Dating in this day and age is way more hard on the ego than it used to be. The anonymity of the Internet lets people be complete assholes without any repercussions. Would this guy have walked up to me on the street and said the same thing? Of course not. Although I wish he had that way I could have slapped him in the face. But instead he chooses the safety of his computer to insult me. So not only do I have to deal with guys not replying to my messages, bad dates, and rejection, I get insulted. Good times, huh?

New App, Same “Dicks”

Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while. My “vintage” laptop died and it’s a pain in the ass to blog on my phone. But I still have a lot of stories! So without further ado… 

I recently signed up for a new dating app, named Bumble. I thought the premise was pretty smart. You look at profiles and you either swipe right for yes and left for no. If both people swipe right, you get a notification but only the girl can start messaging (at least in the hetero version). So you can’t see who likes you before you like them back but you also can’t get a bunch of creepy messages from random guys you’re not interested in. But also you only have 24 hours to message them before they go away. At least this is how the free version works. Anyway, last night I got a mutual match and sent him an email. Here’s the conversation:

Honestly, that was the first time I’ve gotten that reaction. I hate my smile so I’m usually smirking in all my pics. 

When you picture a sweet and innocent person, does that person have multiple piercings including a nose ring and multiple tattoos? I didn’t think so. But whatever, dude. I ask him about himself and he says that it would be boring. Thinking he’s talking about himself I’m a little confused and ask him what he means. 

Ok. I’ve been down this road before. Either he’s insulting me, which if you’ve read any of my other blog entries you’ll know it’s not a rare occurrence, or he’s trying to goad me into “proving” that I’m not innocent. Which in guy speak means “show me your tits”.

So far he hasn’t been too much of an ass so I decide to be a little flirty. And then:

There it is! Doesn’t take long for some guys to bring their penises into the conversation. Ugh. I am not looking for a quick hook up. You know what they say, honesty is the best policy. Since he’s been so honest with me, the least I can do is be honest with him. 

Crickets. More crickets. Cut away to the guy complaining about how much feminists suck and how I’m probably a cold prude and yadda yadda yadda.

Ok, bye now.

He might have been a dick but at least he didn’t send me a picture of his dick. That’s a nice change. 

Bumble = 👎🏻

Geek Speed Dating

Oh yes, you read that right.  Geek speed dating.  Let me start by giving you a little background information.  For her birthday, my best friend’s husband bought her tickets to a Comic Con.  He, having no interest in geek/nerd matters, asked if I would go with her.  Given my love of all things zombie, outer space-y, and Joss Whedon-y, it was a no brainer.  Of course I’d go with her!  While my bestie and I were looking over the list of events, we saw that they offered speed dating.  Which, for a Comic Con, is without a doubt, geek speed dating.  She suggested that I attend.  I had tried speed dating before (albeit, minus the pre-requisite geekiness), and I did not really enjoy it.  So I told her I was going to skip it.  Well, the first day of the Comic Con arrived.  We went to a panel, walked by the vendors and celebrity row, and during all this, we repeatedly saw people with signs for geek speed dating.  My bestie again suggested that I go.  Finally, deciding that the next panel my bestie wanted to go to did not interest me that much, I signed up for it.  It was literally 5 minutes before the start.  I was the last person to sign up so the host escorted me to the room where the speed dating would take place.  This was way more organized than the speed dating I had attended before!  The guys were kept waiting outside the room while the girls were taken right in.  As I walk in and look around the room, I notice that I am BY FAR the oldest chick in there.  Uh oh.  This is NOT a good sign.  All the girls look like they are in their early 20s if not younger!!!  Abort!  Abort!  But it’s too late, I’m already in the room with the door closed behind me.  After the fact, I did find out that one girl was only 5 years younger than me, so not THAT bad, right?  Right?!?!?!  Well, I immediately start worrying that all the guys will be totally inappropriately aged for me.  I try not to panic.  The host (who happens to be dressed up as Starlord – hot) comes in and says he went over the rules with the guys and now it was our turn.  The whole thing was actually put together with people’s safety in mind, which I do appreciate (hand knitted scarf, anyone?).  All participants were given a “name tag” which was a letter and a number.  No names were to be used.  There was no touching allowed, including hand shakes.  They gave you an index card to make notes so you would remember who was who (eg. M14 had a beard and was wearing a hat).  The host then said that if at any time the guy did anything to make us uncomfortable, we were supposed to pretend to stretch our arms, at which point the host would make eye contact with us and if we nodded, then he would immediately kick the guy out, no questions asked.  At first I thought, that’s really smart!  I appreciate how much thought they put in to safety.  My second thought was, why the hell do they need all those precautions anyway?!?!  Sad to say, there are some messed up people in this world.  In any case, let’s move along to the fun stuff.  The guys.  Instructions over, the host escorts the guys in.  Yup.  Babies.  There was maybe one guy who was around my age.  The rest of them looked like they were walking into their senior English class at school.  Yikes. The guys take their seats across from the girls.  The “dates” commence.  These were all the longest 3 minutes of my life.  First guy up, nervous as anything.  I’m worried he’s going to wet himself.  He barely makes eye contact, and has a nervous laughter.  And he laughs at the end of each sentence he says.  Ugh.  Next, guy seems a little bit older.  College freshman, maybe?  Very nice, doesn’t seem nervous.  We discuss Star Wars.  I try to keep the conversation completely flirt-free because I feel totally skeevy even being there.  We’re not even talking cougar status here.  It’s more like statutory rape status.  I’m totally uncomfortable.  So what do I do?  I start making jokes.  The host is sitting across the room from me and I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what’s going on in my head.  He laughs at my jokes too and gives me an understanding look.  Are we done yet?  Next guy.  Woo hoo!  He’s gotta be around my age!  But he’s definitely not my type.  Not so woo hoo.  More like boo hoo.  We talk about what we came to the Comic Con to see and we get on the subject of Power Rangers.  He mentions his appreciation for the show.  I tell him that I loved the original Power Rangers… because I love cheesy TV shows and movies.  No offense to you guy, if you think Power Rangers rival Shakespeare in their writing and have visual effects that rival any Michael Bay movie.  Thinking I may have insulted him, I try to cover up my mishap by telling him that I totally had a crush on the blue Ranger.  And he says, oh well then I have some bad news for you.  Huh?  What bad news?  He tells me the blue Ranger is gay.  Uh… so what?  I can still have a crush on a gay guy!  And like his being gay is what is keeping us from getting married and living happily ever after.  “I totally thought I had a chance with him, but now that I know he’s gay, I don’t have a chance.”  WTF, dude.  Now it’s his turn to try to steer the subject away and he tells me that he had a crush on the Pink Ranger, but she’s married and has a kid.  Then he leans over to me and stage whispers: “Not that that would stop me.”  NEXT!!!!!  Three minutes HAVE to be up, now.  They.  Have.  To.  Be.  And they are.  Next guy also seems closer to my age.  He is dressed up in a riddler costume from Batman, including face mask.  Here’s one thing they should add to those rules: no face masks allowed during speed dating!  I mean, if you’re not willing to take your mask off for the speed dating, you gotta be hiding something.  Guy sits down.  I say hello.  Nothing from him.  I ask “so you must like riddles, huh?”.  “Yeah.” …long pause… dark, creepy eyes leering at me from the mask… still not saying anything…  I honestly don’t even remember what I talked about I was so put off by him.  And I don’t even know what he said because he was basically whispering the entire time and I was unwilling to lean in closer to hear.  Technically, he had not done anything warranting a good old arm stretch.  But his whole vibe was of a maladjusted awkward man-child who lives in his parents’ basement.  Next!  Now the next four dates were basically interchangeable.  They were four friends that were in town for the weekend from Idaho.  IDAHO.  I’m still unclear as to what brought them to my neck of the woods.  A work thing for one of them?  Or all of them?  A high school wrestling match?  Glee club competition?  Who the fuck knows.  I was barely listening to them at this point.  I just wanted to get the hell out of there.  I hadn’t even taken any notes during the whole thing.  What was the point?  The host now explains how the next part works.  The girls and guys go to opposite sides of the room.  Each individual puts their letter/number combo at the top of a blank piece of paper.  We then switch sides and look for the paper that has the letter/number combo of the person we are interested in dating.  If you are interested in that individual, you put your first name and either phone number or email.  Guess how many papers I put my info on?  If you said none, you would be wrong.  One of the girls who was doing the speed dating was also a volunteer for the event and she put a paper out for the host (Starlord).  He was nice, and funny, and not a child, so I thought, why not?  The host then asked the boys to leave first (so there would be no awkward accosting right outside the room).  As soon as the guys were out, all the girls start exclaiming “The Riddler!!!!”  I was not the only one who found him uber-creepy.  Even the host was like, “yeah, that guy was not right.”  And now can you guess who put their name and email address on my paper?  Can you solve that little riddle?  That’s right.  The Riddler.  Shudder.

FYI, Starlord did not email me.  Sigh.

Oldie But A Goodie

This story was brought up at a get together tonight so I figured I’d share it on here. Why deprive you of my funnest moments, eh? The old school way of meeting new potential love interests is the friend set up. A few years ago, one of my friends decided to play matchmaker. She invited me over to play Cards Against Humanity along with a few others, one being a guy she thought I might hit it off with. Things went ok at first and everybody was having fun. A little background information on me is important to this story so here you have it: I’m originally from Canada and my whole family is French Canadian. I only spoke French until I was eight. My family’s primary language is French. Got the picture? Ok. So it’s my turn to read a card out loud. The card includes a French man’s name. I pronounce said name in French. Potential date guy decides to “correct” my pronunciation in an extremely condescending tone. I explain to him that this is the correct way to pronounce it, and the reason that I know this, is that I speak French and am French Canadian. Not only that, but that particular name just so happens to be MY FATHER’S NAME! He then proceeds to say that being French Canadian doesn’t mean that I’m actually French and that I know how to pronounce French words. As we’ve seen in previous posts, I do not respond well to guys being mean or insulting my heritage. I may have lost my cool a little bit. I ask him if he honestly thinks that my whole family pronounces my father’s name incorrectly.  I believe that he said something along the lines of “yes” but honestly I was so angry at that point that I don’t remember. I basically told him how rude he was and that I didn’t appreciate his insulting me but that I was not going to continue to discuss it as I would only get angrier and didn’t want to do something I would regret doing at a friend’s house (I was currently having visions of climbing over the table and slapping him in the face). After a little while, jerk-guy made his excuses and left. My friend says “well that wasn’t very successful”. Understatement of the year. My friend and I have since discovered that our taste in men is quite different. And I do believe that this is the last time she will ever attempt to play matchmaker with me.

Sex and the City

Sometimes my life resembles an episode of Sex and the City.  Because of all the fancy clothes?  The brunches? The Cosmopolitans?  The shoes? The sex?  Nope. The awkward dates.  Here’s my story.

I met a guy on OKC.  He was super cute and really nice.  We made plans to meet up for Happy Hour one afternoon.  We had agreed on 5pm but at around 3:30 that afternoon he texted me to say that he was getting out of work early and wanted to know if I could make it there by 4:30 instead.  I told him that I couldn’t be there before 4:45.  He says ok and I finish up getting ready.  I finished getting ready early so I texted him and told him I could make it at 4:30 after all.  He didn’t get that text so he ended up staying at work longer.  So needless to say, I got there before him.  I saved us a table and waited.  He didn’t get there until after 5!  For a while there, I thought I had been stood up but he did text me that he was on his way.  Now, I don’t know how the rest of the world greets their online dates but I never seen to know what to do.  Do you hug?  Do you shake hands?  Do you just nod? Well, I’m not a touchy feely person and I don’t like being hugged by strangers, so I usually try to do nothing but say hello.  So when he finally got there (after I’d been sitting by myself for half an hour feeling like a loser), I did not get up to greet him.  I just said hello and made a quip about him being late.  As it turns out, we had a great time and spent about two hours on that terrace, talking.  Now here’s where it gets really awkward.  As we get ready to leave, we both stand up and this happens:


I was a good 5 inches taller than him!  I know he wasn’t expecting it either because I noticed his quick glance to my feet to check for heels.  There were no heels. I was wearing flats.  Again with the awkwardness, this time with a goodbye hug, which made it that much more obvious that I was taller than him.

I didn’t think I’d hear back from him, but I did!  I wrestled with the height issue for a little bit, but quickly got over it. We continued to chat and even went on two more dates.  But after a few more texts after the third date, he stopped messaging me.  Which is a shame because for a hot body like his, I’d have gladly traded in all my heels!  Sigh.

Deal Breakers

In searching for a partner, everyone has deal breakers, whether or not they even realize it.  Some people won’t date a smoker, or really short people, or people with crooked teeth, etc.  After frequently being sent messages on dating sites by men that I would never date, I decided to be completely up front and list my deal breakers at the beginning of my profile.  Why waste their time as well as mine?  So here they are, as listed in my profile (I’ve given a brief description of each in blue.  That part is not in my profile).

1.) Religion. I’m an Atheist and I’m pretty serious about it. Some people are Atheists and enjoy friendly debates about religion or are fine with dating someone who is a religious person. I, however, am not one of those people. I don’t want to debate it with you. If you are religious and all about church, I’m not here to stop you! I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you.

2.) Conservative Republican. I’m a pretty liberal Democrat. We’re just not going to get along. This is kind of similar to the religion issue. I want to be with someone who believes in the same things as me. Besides, this is as much for them as for me. I know I’m making a generalization here, but I don’t think there are many conservative Republicans out there dying to date a girl with a bunch of tattoos, a bunch of piercings, who doesn’t want kids and supports Planned Parenthood and NOW.  

3.) Kids. I’m sure they’re awesome but no thank you. And then I recently had to add this: And no, your kids are not the exception. I don’t want children. I don’t want other people’s children. And it’s not because I just “haven’t met the right kids yet”. I’ve met plenty of cool kids. I just don’t want them making up my family unit.

Ok, so some people reading this would be like, “Ok, those are legit reasons” whereas others probably think “WTF is wrong with her?!?!” These deal breakers are in no way intended to make people feel bad about themselves or their beliefs. It is merely what I believe and I put it out there so that some Catholic Republican with 5 kids looking for a wife to provide him with 5 more can just move along to the next profile without wasting his time. I’ve gotten some messages that say “Cool!  I’m down with all that”, I’ve gotten some who obviously didn’t read these deal breakers and merely looked at my pics, and I’ve gotten some messages from people who feel personally insulted by them.  Let’s take a gander at some of the fun ones, shall we?


Why yes, your daughter is a deal breaker. Did you think I was just writing random stuff? Why do you feel the need to change the mind of a perfect stranger? Wouldn’t it just be easier to find someone who does like kids? And yes, I do like redheads, but not enough to change my deal breakers.


Why shouldn’t I be picky? I’m trying to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. I’m not settling. And, why would you bother messaging someone to tell them you WOULDN’T get along? Just move on to the next profile. Geez!


This is the profile of a guy who messaged me.  Please to note “the six things I could never do without”. Number 1: God. Deal breaker. Number 4: Faith. Isn’t that kind of like #1? No matter. Deal breaker. Number 5: My Kids. Seriously? Those are three things that I could never do WITH. Thank you, move along.


Ok, fine. But I’m not looking for more friends. I’m not going to bother with replying.


Wait, what? You’re just really trying for a response from me, aren’t you?


I have serious doubts that you read or enjoyed my profile. If you had actually read my profile, as a father of two, you probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much.


Dude. Are you just going around sending form letters to everyone on the app? You might want to keep track of who you already sent messages to. Just a suggestion.


Oh, did I forget to mention that bad grammar and spelling is also a deal breaker?  😉

It’s a Small World After Aaaaaallllll

Now that I’ve got that tune stuck in your head (you’re welcome), let me tell you about the small world that is online dating. It never fails that when you go out to your local bar, you run into some people from high school. That is the curse of living in a small state. But seeing how many profiles are on these dating apps, you think “oh! Look at all these people who have no connection to me whatsoever!” Browsing through all these interesting possibilities, I see a profile of a man I find attractive. We start chatting and after a few days I get this intense craving for sushi so I decide to ask him out to go get some sushi. The day before our date, I am chit chatting with a coworker and tell her I have a date with a guy named “Marcus”. 

“I know him”, she says right off the bat. 

“Come on. There’s no way you know all the Marcuses in the state.” 

“I guarantee you I know him.”

So I show her his picture. Sure enough, she produces pictures of him on her phone! They had dated previously but we’re not currently seeing each other. Now for some background information: I have some deal breakers listed clearly in my online dating profile. One of them is kids. I’m not a kid person and am not interested in dating someone with them. My coworker knows this. So she asks me:

“How well do you know him?”

“Not well, we just chatted a little bit but I was desperate for some sushi and just decided to ask him out. Why?

“Did he tell you he has a kid?”

“Uh… No.”

“And last time I talked to him, he didn’t have a job, or a car and lived with his grandma.”

“I see.”

“He didn’t tell you any of this?”

“Obviously not. And it doesn’t say anywhere in his profile that he has kids!!!”

“Well, I know him and I know you. And trust me, he’s not your type.”

Crap. I had already made a date with him for the next day! Now what? I didn’t want to go out with this guy who had previously dated a coworker of mine and conveniently forgot to mention he had a kid (after reading my profile which specifically states no kids). I felt bad canceling at the last minute but how awkward would it be going out with him when I had all this insider information on him? So I decided to cancel our date. 

 This user disabled their account. Well that’s that, I guess! It seems you just can’t avoid running into old high school and college people, old exes and other people’s exes even in the large pool that is online dating apps.

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