HEY. CARL. GOOD TO SEE YOU. That's my way of saying, welcome back. It's an homage to the last good Adam Sandler comedy, in case you were wondering. Sorry Adam. Don't worry about whether or not I can refer to him on a first name basis.
I seem to only post things during pivotal moments in my life, that most of you that read this already know anyway. With that being said, I'm going to skip over that whole E! True Hollywood Story "Where Are They Now?" of my life and move on to a new topic that has been of particular interest, agony, and complete and total humor lately. Dating. But not just any dating....internet dating.
Before I divulge what many of you may find to be entirely outlandish and will surely be muttering, "Oh my god, I can't believe she's admitting to this", just simmer down nah and appreciate the struggle.
I had a conversation with one of my best friends tonight reflecting upon how the hell we both ended up nearly 30, beyond single, and on our own. Women's Lib supporters, please, extinguish the brassiere fueled flame for a moment. I get you. I take pride in being independent, as successful financially as a new educator can be, and don't need a man to inform me of my daily duties and requirements as a woman. It's super and I'll be the first one in line to kick a guy in the back of the knee for making a generalized, misogynistic comment towards me. However, with that being said, BEING SINGLE SUCKS ASS. Please excuse my outburst...it's been a while since the only companion in my bed hasn't been my giant-hearted oaf of a dog. I mean, the seasons have changed nearly 3 times since. You understand. If you don't, I suspect you have often been accused of hating fun, babies, and junk food. I wish my mother wasn't reading this.
I know many of you are thinking I should count my blessings, or the remaining pieces of pizza in my refrigerator that are just for me, whatever--same thing, and figure I have just saved myself from the misery and heartache of being with the wrong person. Next, you're going to tell me, "Be patient, it will happen when you least expect it." Then after I refute that, you will tell me, "You just haven't met the right guy yet." Or you'll wonder if maybe I'm actually a lesbian--not that there's anything wrong with that. Trust me, I've spent many a night considering all of these possibilities. They all have one thing in common. They make me hate you for saying them to me repeatedly over the years (get some new material), as if they're some kind of profound solution that will suddenly pull me from the ashes of the nearly 30 singleness in which I currently dwell. I secretly kind of want to slap you in the teeth actually so you understand how NOT helpful these well-intended sentiments are. You've been telling me (or someone you know like me) this same load of mummified manure for years. I'm not angry, despite my fantasized act of aggression. I love you for trying; I sincerely do. But you're likely the person that has been in only long term relationships since middle school and have never really been single for longer than six months. Nothing knowers.
My issue isn't with all of you happily coupled up people. You are a delight for me to be the 7th wheel on nights out on the town with. It's not really an issue at all. It's a matter of opportunity. Opportunity which my current life does not always--no, rarely--affords me. It is a reality to which I have accepted. My mother continues to urge me to join clubs and groups for single professionals to open up a doorway into how normal people meet other people of the opposite sex, or so I've heard. But, uh, I don't want to go these weird clan meetings alone. I can just imagine myself wandering around in a business casual outfit that looks more professional than what I wear to work, trying to not-weirdly worm my way into conversations with strangers who already know each other...and then walking away feeling positive I seem weirder than when going in. This was my exact experience in my 20's going out with my friends who always promised me we wouldn't end up at a dance club. You know who you are, you Judas Priests. It's super awkward because it's not an environment I would ever take pleasure in being in. This is what led me to internet dating.
I've worked in 99% married, female dominated environments since graduating high school. You'd think that someone would know someone who knows someone's sister's brother's friend who would be a total catch. Not once. Not once did this ever happen. Friends and Seinfeld have fed the public lies (can you tell what I watch on Netflix?). So, I've been taking matters into my own hands on and off since I was maybe 23 and being proactive about dating. When dating sites first appeared and crept into the hearts of lonely single people alike. I've been on them all. Match.com (which I only pay for when there is a Groupon), Plentyoffish.com, Okcupid.com. Ok, so maybe I've just been on 3. Eharmony wants your retirement fund and inheritance. Tinder is the Showgirl I of the Bleu Diamond--which for any of you non Fort Wayners means it's pretty terrible all around. For years, I refused to believe I needed to pay for dating. It felt a little like...prostitution. Until I realized that all of the guys on the free sites just wanted to bang anyway, so then those became the equivalent of Craiglist's "Casual Encounters" (if you've never read these ads, you haven't lived). Seriously. That shit, that shit being free dating sites, is almost always guaranteed to be weird.
I have been on probably 10 internet dates since 2008, it's not something I share with my diary--even she has standards. I sign up maybe 1-2x a year when I get bored. You don't know this level of boredom. I used to get all creative and deeply honest about my hopes and dreams as well as perception about who I was as a person, hoping that the man of my dreams was reading my profile and saying, "YES. The woman I have been waiting for is just on the other side of the interweb being amazing." No. It attracted some strange ass mofo's. The first guy I ever went on a date with, I made my friend go with me. In hindsight, that was probably bad form, but, I wasn't going to get murdered during my first experience.
When I say I've dated some characters, I mean Wes Anderson couldn't have developed a character as layered. Tim Burton, sure. I met a guy who shaved his legs due to self-conciousness about his hairiness, yet neglected his advancing periodontal disease. Another guy inexplicably showed up with a mouth full of braces and a leather coat, who took me to a shooting range for our first date, but later told me he didn't appreciate my sarcasm (fart noise). One fellow showed up an hour and a half late, squabbled with me over the bill, made me pay for tickets to the Haunted Cave, admitted he was 32 and still lived at home, was a beekeeper, built wooden triangles with LED lights that were supposed incense burners and then boasted about his fantastic skills as pianist. We went to a bar where I knew people. He played. He lied. And then tried to sell my bartender friend his stupid triangles. I was mortified. One chap made me wait a week before he told me about his very unusual upbringing and non-paralleled thrilling life of travel. First of all, he looked like a blast from the past from the boys I knew in 6th grade--nothing like his picture. THAT'S ANOTHER THING. They NEVER look like their pictures. Avoid any and all guys who show no teeth or always wear a hat in pictures. I'm really not shallow, but I mean, come one, there has to be a level of attraction. I'm going to figure it out. Lesbihonest. His big back life story was that he lived with his mom and grandma growing up....and that he once flew to Utah by himself to meet a friend who lived there. Needless to say, my clothes fell off immediately. When I got home and into bed and wondered what I was doing with my life. A recent date seemed completely awesome and too good to be true. He started talking about how much fun we were going to have and all of the places we were going to go. It was charming at first, because I do want that. But then, on our first date, he was dressed like Mr. Rogers when he put on his good cardigan, accused me of looking at other guys in the bar, told me how much his mom and friends were going to love me, and then invited me on a weekend away to a mother f-ing RAVE in Cincinnati the following weekend. Can we maybe drop some X, hula hoop while spinning glow sticks...and then die later? JIMINY CRICKET. On these dates, I always find myself admitting the worst qualities about myself hoping I won't have to be the one that breaks the news, but it only seems to make them like me more. I have received a lot of angry voicemails and text messages. And not ONE of them has ever been funny. I must have funny.
These were just some of my more memorable dates. They were always what led me to immediately delete my dating profile and swear off the strange act of trafficking myself. So, when I do internet date, I basically just make jokes throughout my entire profile (yeah, it's just like a resume). Here, enjoy this little literary snack, which is an actual excerpt from my profile (which I'm now just too lazy to delete because I can't do it on my phone):
My Self Summary
**Disclaimer: If you are expecting sweet, mushy "I'll tell you everything you want to hear from a woman" statements, including, but not limited to, my immense love and seriousness for/regarding working out and a strict dietary regimen, immediately stop reading. However, if you enjoy humor and you know, reality, by all means, please enjoy. I have zero qualms about who I am, and at this point, why not make this fun, and frank.**
I'd love to tell you I'm really athletic and am super into highly coordinated sports, but I'm afraid it just isn't so. Will I try? Sure, absolutely. Will I yell at someone because they're not helping the team win? No, because talking to yourself is weird.
I'm pretty low key. I don't like, live in sweatpants or anything, but I enjoy a more calm and relaxed lifestyle--which doesn't mean I dont like to get out and do other things. It just means I'm not foaming at the mouth to take a spin class, go wall climbing, or build a shed in my back yard. I like nature and doing things in nature. Wooo nature! I'm really up for trying anything new/adventurous, within reason...my reason.
Keys constantly defeat me and I wish the technology was available that uses thumbprints as keys instead. Like in Back to the Future 2 (the best one by the way). And if it is available, you should buy it for me instead of flowers. **Addendum: Amidst apparent controversy and anarchy over this statement, I would like to specify that I enjoy 2 over 3. Original is sound. I mean Hoverboards, power laces, and a food hydrater? Let's be real.**
On a typical Friday night I am
asleep by midnight unless a better option has been presented. Friday nights are the best nights ever to couch it up with no pants and sleep until an undisclosed time the next morning.
You should message me if
I realize I spelled goatee incorrectly.
You're a good person and don't like wearing pants on the weekend.
Is it any wonder I'm still single? I've found the response to this to be overwhelming. But I have gotten some really, really, weird--weirder than your dad hitting on your friend-- responses. I've responded to TWO people in the last month out of my 63 messages. Because everyone else is that strange and leaves me not questioning at all why they are single. I made a meme out of one--and took a screen shot of a real conversation (it should be noted that this guy also sent me an unsolicited picture of a very, uh, large, male part--which I will not include). Here they are (notice the first miscreant's screen name):
I realize I spelled goatee incorrectly.
One guy asked me to sit on his face as his first message. Again, I really, really wish my mother wasn't reading this. Another pleaded with me to let him be my sugar daddy. Every single guy that messages me is convinced we have a lot in common. Really? How in the world do you have a lot in common with what I said? I said those things specifically so you couldn't pretend you had anything in common with me. No, sir in a dingy wife beater, a likely arcade acquired gold chain and K-Swiss shoes smoking a blunt with an MGD in your hand, you do not have one single thing in common with me aside from the fact that you breathe oxygen. No, I would not like to listen to country music with you while you play video games in your jorts.
I don't mean this to sound so harsh or to make such fun of others. But, this is internet dating. You know you would have no interest in people like this either. And this has been my life for quite a while and I finally find it hilarious enough to share with everyone. It gets to a point that you can't do anything but laugh and have fun with it. A lot of men are just plain creepy and probably have episodes of Law and Order SVU written after them.
While I do not need to date anyone, you can certainly understand why at my age and being single for, I don't know, life, why I take a particular interest in being proactive about doing so. One day, I'm sure it will all work out for the best like the world keeps guaranteeing me. These blokes just aren't cutting it, however. But, hey, at least I show perseverance. Admirable, right?
The more you know.
