My “Love” Language (ha.)

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I KNOW. I KNOW. I AM TERRIBLE AT THIS.

Here’s your update… I don’t have one? I had such high hopes that this blog would push me to try harder, be more adventurous, be less cynical, etc. etc. As y’all know, L hit the jackpot and locked down a very handsome man that adores her. Kudos L, kudos. Me? Well, my heart is just not in it. I think this is due to a number of things.

Firstly, I have my on demand boyfriend. Say what you will, it’s the perfect situation in so many ways. We play house together when we are both feeling domestic, and I have someone to call on when I want to escape the city. We like each other’s faces enough to sustain this unique relationship for the past year, but the expectations are nonexistent. If he happened to fall head over heels in love, I would toast his heart, kiss him on the cheek, and wish him well. I know he feels the same. Until then, we will find comfort in each another, playing banjo in the backyard over Steve Martin songs, whiskey, and fresh coconut.

Secondly, I still don’t trust men. I realize that this is something I have to address and work on. I know that I’m the only person in control of this. I am aware, don’t worry. I also know that this isn’t something that will happen overnight (or over two years). It will take patience and resolve. For now I work on finding friends who are good men. They remind me that they DO exist. I don’t date these men because I’d rather be their lifetime friends. I have lost too many beautiful hearts to lose the few good souls I have found.

Thirdly, I don’t know if I want a relationship. My life is my family, my friends, my dog, my work. I know that when I find a man I want to make a life with, I will make time for him. I have done it in the past, so I know I’m capable. The problem is, since my last boyfriend, I haven’t found a fella I want to call home. Sure, I have found/dated/slept with a number of wonderful people, but none of them have been my wake-up-slow partner in crime. I have felt that before, and I won’t settle down until I feel it again. Call it picky, call it ridiculous, call it whatever you want. Until I feel the rumblings of love in the pit of my stomach, I will write casual on their name tag and continue the search for my lobster.

For now, I make due with silly situations. I have my on demand boyfriend, I have my inappropriate texts with off limits fellas, I have my weird attachment to a boy that I can’t pin down. I have my heart scattered among a number of different scenarios, none of which are traditional or “healthy” or run of the mill. Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I exist to flit and be single and remind men that women can be casual too. Maybe my existence on this earth is to have brief bursts of no- strings-attached romance. Perhaps I am meant to fling myself into the world and collect men and one off relationships like stamps. As L and I continue to wander through our versions of love, our stories are going to shift. She will focus on what it means to fall for a good and honest man and I will move further from traditional.

Who knows, maybe that IS my language of love.

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Pushing Boys Off Of Pedestals.

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I like a challenge. Give me a man that is kind, generous, honest and open with his feelings (and actually likes me) and I will run for the hills faster than you could ever imagine. Give me a guy who is apathetic, distant and probably just using me for physical intimacy and I’m ON BOARD.

I know, I need to go to therapy.

Needless to say, this is really my biggest hurdle in the “forever alone” category I have found myself in. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that I don’t trust any of them, or maybe it’s because I’m weirdly competitive, and like to overcome difficult tasks (boys included.) Pursue unabashedly until I get what I want… that has always been my motto.

A lot of the times what I want are boys I can’t seem to get, so I hold weird, unhealthy flames for them. I put them on pedestals they don’t deserve to be on. I’m not saying that I’m the ultimate catch, because god knows I have a plethora of heavy, awkward baggage. What I am saying is that I’m starting to realize that I DO deserve to be adored.

Every one deserves to be pursued by people that actually desire them. I realize I’m contradicting myself by my “run to the hills” statement, but there’s a difference between smothering adoration and mutual affection. I just can’t seem to find that happy middle ground. Is it impossible to find someone that likes you at the same level you like them? I digress.

I had this come-to-god moment when I recently found myself in a situation that seemed like something out of a “don’t do this” college rom com. A late night booty call, with little to no effort on his part, a roll in the hay (sorry mom), and then the “I’m super tired” line. I couldn’t help thinking of John Hamm in Bridesmaids as I left, because honestly… what is that?

I knew it was coming when I went over there, because what kind of man isn’t willing to come to you? But I have had him placed on this pedestal for a few months now, so I wanted to see if this time around we could make it more than the drunken shenanigans it had been in the past. It was the same. Now, don’t get me wrong. I adore this human. In fact, he’ll probably read this and make some snarky comment to me about it, but I told him I was going to write about him, so he can deal with it. If you’re a friend and you fling with me, expect to be in the blog—that’s just how it is. This light bulb won’t (or shouldn’t) have any effect on our friendship; it will just shift the way our relationship works. He’s now fully in the friend zone, which means it’ll probably be a much healthier and better relationship in the long run. Let’s be real, I’m a damn good friend. Anything beyond that gets a little bit hazy.

Taking someone off that pedestal isn’t as easy as saying, “PEDESTAL, BE GONE!” And I know that I will have fleeting moments of “awwww” over this handsome, brilliant man, but I do know that I deserve better. I deserve the random text messages of beards and babies (thank you, D… You get me.) I deserve the blush worthy moments. I deserve to be wooed. Sure, I have no idea what I REALLY want, but I do know that doubting my appeal and likability based on one fling’s weird approach to casual is dangerous.

Because yes, I like to keeps things no strings attached these days (if you couldn’t tell…) but I also like to keep my dignity. Goodness knows my love bar is so low it’s scraping the dirt, so I really don’t need any reason to start digging it a ditch. I don’t have time to be swept off my feet, but I also don’t have time to waste precious flirting power on men who can’t at least TRY to woo me.

Toss a girl a bone (or a flower, or something) for christ’s sake.

Being Single on Valentine’s Day

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So Valentine’s Day is this weekend.

I was on a date (of sorts) last night and he mentioned running to Mexico because, “Fuck Valentine’s Day.”

While I am always a fan of impromptu trips to sunny places, I laughed at him.

Laughed in his face and then called him ridiculous. This is why I’m calling it a “sort of” date. He doesn’t live in my city, so I give zero fucks about being impressive, charming or pretty. It means I can stare at his handsome face, give him shit when he is being silly, and still kiss him goodnight. If you haven’t noticed, out-of-state cuties are my thing, So, I do what I do, and had to laugh at his disdain for Valentine’s Day.

It’s just another day.

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I understand feeling mopey… kind of. I also know that when you’re in a relationship, Valentine’s Day is an excuse to eat expensive food and give adorable gifts. That’s how I always defined Valentine’s Day when shacked up, so why change now? It’s always been a day of decadence, and that idea has just followed me to my single life. And not in a self pitying “feel bad for me” way. It’s just a day I’ve always found an excuse to indulge in delightful things. Not having a fella is most definitely not going to change that.

If you know me at all, you’ll know that Parks and Rec is my absolute favorite. I want to be a Leslie Knope/Donna/Ron Swanson hybrid when I grow up. Which means Galentine’s Day is right up there with Christmas.

I have always had a group of best gal pals. They are my people. From my bestie of 27 years, to my college ladies, to the babes in Texas who know me better than most, these friendships matter.

My definition of happy is to surround myself with folks who keep me sane. And my babes? Well, they just get me. I am fiercely loyal to these ladies, and my life is so much brighter because of them. What better day to celebrate our friendship than Valentine’s Day? It’s an entire holiday dedicated to love, after all.

While self-pitying singledom has its place, so does celebrating the relationships in your life that give you purpose. This Valentine’s Day will be full of hound dog strolls, morning coffee with my family, Discovery park runs, and a Galentine’s Day brunch. I will gather with 10+ badass women and we will celebrate each other over frittata, champagne and Bob Dylan records.

In the evening I will most likely slap on some red lipstick, pal around with L and B (my beautiful single ladies), order a large glass of Bulleit, and bat my eyelashes at handsome men.

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

In honor of this day filled with self-celebration and love, I took a page out of my person’s notebook and made a mix. Always known for her mix tapes to fill any occasion, nothing gets an emotion across like a random hodge podge of songs.

Bottom line, no matter what you find yourself doing on the dreaded/adored/whatever V-Day, do it with love.

Entanglement, Handsome Bearded Men & Doing What I Want

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There’s this scientific phenomenon called quantum entanglement. Two particles, struck in a certain way, will affect one another, distance be damned. One is disrupted, the other follows suit.

I learned about this from Invisibilia, a wonderful podcast created by two women fascinated by the intangible forces that shape human behavior. If, like me, you’re pining for more Serial or wait anxiously for new episodes of This American Life and Radio Lab, you’ll fall for this podcast, hard.

I promise I will relate this back to dating, but I DID warn you that my “first date” well has run dry.

Not only did quantum entanglement blow my mind because… science, I also relate it to my life, in a very un-sciencey way. I’m not claiming anything to the extreme that they were describing (a woman can actually FEEL other people’s pain), but you know what I mean. There are those people that will always tug at your heartstrings, that you will always feel something for, no matter how many years it’s been. True, I don’t feel his pain or his drunkenness, but when I see him my heart is drawn to his. Just because. That’s how love and heartbreak is.

Now for the silver lining.

Last night I made soup. I had a handsome fella over for dinner. We drank wine and caught up on the month where we hadn’t seen each other. We will call this character K, because I am not creative. What I adore about this man is that we’re actually on the same page. We enjoy each other’s company. We like to go on adventures together. Sometimes we hold hands, most times we don’t. And we don’t have a desire to fall in love. Not with each other, and probably not with other people, at least not right now. He likes me, I like him. If he stopped liking me, I’d stop liking him. It’s a bizarre, modern, “romantic” entanglement, and it suits my life perfectly.

In my experience, being on the same page RARELY happens. They make terrible movies about it. One person always thinks they can play the friends-with-benefits game, and then the predictable “fall in love” scenario happens and the happily-ever-after credits roll.

That’s great. Falling in love is wonderful. But maybe you really can have a partner where it all works out and stays casual. It’s the first time in my adult life where an ongoing “booty call” (for lack of a better word) is sustainable.

As I’ve told him, I don’t have time to date anyone seriously. My focus is my job, my dog, and my family. He said that I’m what every man wants. This isn’t true, as I know many men who thrive off of being in a relationship. Whether or not they admit to it, being alone just isn’t in the cards for them. A lot of people get great joy out of being someone’s partner, and to them I say, “congratulations.” They go from one relationship to another, because it’s what gives their life that extra spark. Being an adult, and finding a K, has really hit home the fact that I really like being single.

I am consistently reminded by society that this will only lead to loneliness and lots of cats, but I call bullshit on that. One of my darling friends in Texas sent me a text yesterday lamenting the pains of dating. How it feels like a competition, and she just wants to date herself, but the world frowns upon such things. Whether or not we know how to classify it, we have that nagging feeling like we are failing if we aren’t happily settled down. I know the feeling. I know what it feels like to get the, “so… who are you dating?” question from family and friends. They have a tone of pity in their voice, like they should be tiptoeing around my singledom at the ancient age of 28. My method of self care doesn’t involve finding the love of my life, deal with it.

As a part of my year of Flawless, I’m really working on reclaiming the idea that being alone can be just as respected and joyful as being in a relationship. To beat down the beast that hovers around me, reminding me I should be working to find my lobster. To remind society that women can be sexual beings and not be classified as sluts. And if you ARE pointing a finger and doubting or judging my choices… fuck you? I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want.

So yeah. I have a casual relationship with a tragically handsome bearded man. We make time for it when we can, and don’t have expectations. We enjoy each other’s company, and that’s all it needs to be. He feels it, I feel it… We’re entangled in a loose, casual, perfect way.

I’m Breaking Up with Online Dating

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The number of times I have tried to make online dating work is getting out of control. I have been single, on and off, for four years and in that period of time I have dabbled in the online world countless times.

At first, my bestie and I created profiles and acted real sheepish about it. This was back when the idea of meeting your significant other on the internet was perceived as pathetic, and we 100% agreed. We made our profiles on OKC like it was some dirty secret, and gave every fella a nickname: tug boat, the lawyer, TJs, etc. I can honestly say I only remember a handful of the guys, but I’m sure that they were/are all delightful. Or maybe they are the worst? Either way, they’re a blur of beers and street light illuminated kisses, and then every last one of them fizzled.

What can I say? Give me fireworks, or I’m out.

So, when my best friend found the love of her life at the only country bar in Seattle (lucky bitch), I was left to wade through the online dating scene like I knew what I was doing. I took a long break when I lived in Texas, as I was too busy mending a broken heart while simultaneously convincing myself I wasn’t in love with my co-worker. I kind of was, and I’m sure he knew it (heyyy buddy! Still have a place in my heart for you, always!)

L can attest to the fact that one of the only reasons I’m still on dating sites is for this damn blog. And while my lofty goal was a date a week, I haven’t been on a first date since the New Year. Oh sure, I get messages and matches and all that good stuff, but I cancel every. single. time. My heart just isn’t in it. I’m sure I’ve whined about this in the past, but I will always be wary of online dating, and here is why.

  • You’re not special: At all. It’s terrible to know that while they are dating you, they’re also seeing what else is out there. For someone who already has SO MUCH distrust in men and their intentions, you can imagine the self-doubt that rears its head when you discover they’re signing in on the daily after spending most nights in your bed. I’m all for keeping your options open, but how the hell am I supposed to fall for anyone if I know you’re constantly looking for something “better”? Or whatever the fuck it is they’re doing. Pot calling the kettle black, I know. I’m just as bad. WHAT HAS THE INTERNET DONE TO ROMANCE?!

  • See above: Romance is out the window with this online dating shit. Except for this couple, most meet-cutes and grandkid worthy stories don’t start with, “well kids, I met your grandpa on the INTERNET!” Call me old fashioned, but I love hearing the stories that start with, “I saw this man in the grocery store that I knew I wanted to kiss, so I asked him for his number over canned beans.” And no, that doesn’t just happen in movies, that is straight from the mouth of my grandma, so suck it.
  • Forced chemistry: It makes me want to jump out a window. Oh sure, a fella can have a beard and tout all the characteristics I think are swoon worthy, and then it just falls flat. Nothing against him (usually), it’s just not possible to force chemistry. None of the men I’ve actually fallen for in the last 4 years come close to what I would categorize as “my type”. I think it’s the universe’s way of telling me to stop expecting a bearded, flannel-wearing vegetarian woodworker to drop from the sky. I get it, I need to stop going after walking PNW stereotypes. I GET IT.

  • Liars: If you’re 5’7”, don’t say you’re 5’10”… I WILL FIND OUT. Not that your height is a TOTAL deal breaker, but come on. You can only keep that façade up for so long. Literally. I will know when you stand up… So stop it. I am sure online profiles are filled with all other kinds of exaggerations and lies, but the blatant fibbing around height is the prime example of why I hate it. WHEN YOU START DATING SOME ONE, THE TRUTH WILL ALWAYS COME OUT. Just stop lying. You’re not fooling anyone.

So, I’m breaking up with online dating.

Which means I will have to rely on meeting people in REAL life, while continuing my perma-crushes with long distance cuties. And MAYBE (just maybe), I will get up the courage to ask handsome men out (looking at you, super young coffee boyfriend(s)). And if there are people out there who feel like playing matchmaker, a blind date that DOESN’T involve the internet could be a thing? Maybe? (Do people do that anymore?)

Tinder, OKC, Hinge, etc. you’ve been weird and generally underwhelming. One bad date after another, you’ve brought me some hilarious stories, and a confirmation that dating IS actual hell. The silver lining? You’ve been a great excuse to drink beer on a Tuesday, make some questionable and fun choices with strangers, and you have provided me with an endless source of gossip for my lame-o friends (I kid, I kid) who are married or whatever.

What I’m trying to say is… This dating blog is about to get REAL boring, as my dating well is going to run very dry. L… the stakes have been raised, it’s up to you to be entertaining. ONWARD AND UPWARD!

Where’s the Love?!

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I have been single now for two years (I think…?) My last break up left me alone on my birthday, packing up our little house as I repeated “you are strong” over and over and over again.

This year I celebrated my birthday with champagne and a cigar on a beach in Costa Rica with amazing co-workers. Let’s just say my life is headed in the right direction.

Let’s also say that while my life is pretty damn fantastic, I’m kind of getting sick of not genuinely moving beyond the crush phase. I don’t think it’s a surprise to any one that if a fella is charming enough, I will put him into the crush category. What’s the harm in having at least 15 crushes at one time? Why settle on the BEST when I can spread my affection super thin and maybe tolerate some one for a date or a one night stand? (earmuffs mom)

I have been in love twice in my life. In 28 years, I have found myself getting all wobbly and heart sick over TWO fellas. That’s it. I have had countless kisses from cute strangers. My “number” is decent. But falling in love? That list is short and to the point. These were the kind of loves where I actually wanted to spend every second with them. Where I didn’t look for excuses to cancel our dates. Where I fell into comfortable togetherness right out of the door.

I shouldn’t complain. I’ve had two great loves in 28 years. That’s amazing! It was soul crushing and heart shattering when it fell apart, but at least I felt that overwhelming sense of love. I am grateful for every second of both of those relationships, and know that I’m a better person because of them. I also know that they fucking ruined me.

Let me explain.

These dudes, while completely different from each other, set the bar. And let me tell you, that bar is REAL high. I know what it feels like to be consumed with love. I know what it’s like to look at some one’s face and want to squeeze it, like a puppy or a baby. I know what it’s like to share a home, wake up slow and forget that you’re supposed to get out of bed. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND SOME ONE THAT YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO SPEND A LOT OF TIME WITH? Maybe it’s just me, but I am so god damn stubborn that I refuse to settle for anything less than the earth shattering love.

It’s happened to me twice, so maybe my cards have already all been played. Maybe I had my chance, and now the universe is saying, “welp, you fucked THAT up royally… soooooo, forever alone it is.” I also know that there’s that saying that once you stop looking for it, it happens. I guess writing a blog, trying out all the dating sites (while never actually going on a date) and gossiping with my babe L about ALL the crushes is pretty much the definition of “looking for it”.

Whatever the case, I want to move beyond crushes, dammit. I want to feel ALL those big and exciting feelings again. I want to get lost in all that romantic mumbo jumbo that I’m so skeptical of, because I know that the moment some one sweeps me off my feet, I’m a sucker for that shit as much as the next girl.

2015 is the year of Flawless, which means I gotta buckle down and be open, honest, strong and vulnerable. Yikes… It’s going to be quite the year.

A 2015 Crush Letter

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I am known to harbor a few crushes. Why hone in on one fella, when you can keep an unsafe distance from letting anyone REALLY know your heart… Am I right? True, it’s probably unhealthy for my romantic life, but having a wide range of crushes has kept my brain distracted from that weird lonely feeling that creeps in every now and again.

Take that and combine it with my word for 2015 — Flawless — and I feel like this year will be full of confessions and putting myself out on the line. Before I throw myself into anything I’m going to ask myself, “What would Bey do?”

So here’s my first Crush Letter of 2015, because we all know Beyonce would go after what she wants, when she wants to. As for the boy that this is about? I HAVE TO KEEP SOME SECRETS!

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To You:

I am heading to Costa Rica as we speak. The country is warm and friendly and full of tropical fruit. This plane is loud and annoying and NOT full of tropical fruit. Also, United Airlines doesn’t seem to care even a LITTLE bit about personal space. The man next to me is snoring and leaning dangerously close to me, and I’m preparing for that awkward moment when he wakes up on my shoulder. And now I’m rambling.

I got the courage to write this letter when we hit a patch of turbulence. I fly often, but I always have a doomsday outlook on life when I’m hurdling through the air in a metal tube, so it goes. I also happen to be reading Lena Dunham’s book, and I find her transparency inspiring. I promise I’m getting to a point.

I like you.

I find you wonderfully intriguing, insanely frustrating, and for some reason, I care about what you think. When I stumble on some weird Icelandic band whose music sounds like the Northern Lights, I want to share it with you. I imagine the way I feel about you is akin to the way girls in the 30s felt about their beaus. Full of giggles and quick eye glances, I want to exchange long letters and favorite novels back and forth. You make me feel old fashioned.

Part of the intrigue comes from having zero idea where you stand in all of these things. You may only think of me as a temporary friend. Filling conversation to pass the time. Or perhaps your steely nature and stoicism means that if I were to wink at you, you’d wink back. There’s something so intriguing about not knowing where a crush’s brain is at. It makes me feel like I’m in junior high school again, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

Perhaps that is what is so charming about all of this, the not knowing. The anticipation of when I’ll be honest and upfront and tell you that kissing your face on a regular basis wouldn’t be so shabby. And who knows, maybe those feelings aren’t reciprocated, or maybe I won’t ever get up the courage. Writing about it on the internet is a step in the right direction, I do believe.

Either way, know that a bit of turbulence made me realize I should tell you that I like you. And even though me landing safely kept me from ACTUALLY sending this to you, you were thought about. You are admired. And maybe one day you’ll find out this was about you and you will hold my hand.

XO,

Me

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I also hope that every boy reading this post thinks it’s about them. Because let’s be honest, who doesn’t love to be flattered and told that they are adored? I have crushes on all y’all, I’m sure of it.

The Potential Dangers of Cyber Stalking

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L Preface: this isn’t an educational blog post about the dangers of the internet. This is just a cautionary tale of how my head has sometimes gotten away from me and done a bit of spin work because the internet is oh so powerful and Google is a thing that exists! BS I’ve had a bit of a dry spell in the dating world following the DILF. It’s not that I haven’t been out there – I’ve been swiping right and messaging back and smiling at men in bars and on buses, but there just hasn’t been anyone who’s really made me want to venture out into the wild to endure small talk. For example, I matched with a cute guy this past weekend and within the first 7 short messages we exchanged he let me know how much he absolutely hated being alone. In the great words of the oh-so-wise Paris Hilton: Don’t be desperate. But last week a man messaged me about my picture with Chuck Klosterman, has the conversational skills necessary to keep my attention, and has yet to reveal needy tendencies. Guys, a white whale! Online dating pro tip: pictures with celebrities and baby animals are great for an opener, apparently. Bun Messaging on Tinder led to a phone number exchange, led to making plans to watch the Seahawks game, led to texting all weekend about things like Harry Potter and Nascar. Sunday rolled around and confession: I woke up late and didn’t want to shower, so I asked to reschedule. We both watched the game without pants on, drinking cider in our separate apartments, and texting during each play – commiserating over how terrible the Raiders are and how awful our offense is. He didn’t hold it against me for canceling, but he didn’t let me forget that it was my fault we weren’t watching the game together. The guy has spunk, and I love spunk. Oh and he let me know he owns the entire HP series on Blu-Ray which makes him potential dating gold. HP 2 Now, one of the joys of meeting online is creating your own online profile: you’re given the ability to craft a persona and reveal slices of your life via photos and short descriptions. I openly knew walking into our date last night to watch Monday Night Football a few things about him. I knew that he’s in his 30s and from Alaska. I knew we have some crossover interests like dive bars, records, and whiskey. And I of course knew he was witty and sharp via our light hearted text-banter. Now, one of the unspoken joys of meeting online is also the pre-emptive cyber stalking you can do prior to a first date. I know I’m going to seem like a nut job, but I’m just about 100% certain everyone does it. I once went out with a guy and prior to our first date my best friends had found not only all of his social media profiles, but gone above and beyond to find all the social media profiles of his most recent ex-girlfriend. Women and men who grew up in the age of social media are potentially better than the CIA when it comes to “research” abilities. We will dig, and most of the time we’ll find at least one point of curiosity or red flag about you via your online self. Penny In the case of last night’s first date, I only went so far as Facebook. Because the banter had been so good and I was actually excited to meet him, I really didn’t want to know too much (not my normal behavior). My very light Facebook research suggests that he’s pretty fresh off a breakup. This obviously has been drilled into every single girl as a “red flag,” a warning sign of epic proportions. We’re educated and socialized to think that someone off a recent breakup won’t want to commit or will cry during sex or will be completely damaged by their recent uncoupling. Dating pro-tip: Anyone can potentially have commitment issues or cry during sex or be completely damaged by a previous relationship. Recent breakup or not, everyone has baggage. Facebook and other social networks can just help to create red flags where there may not in fact be any. Mindy 1My date watching Monday Night Football turned into us not paying attention to the game until the 4th quarter because we were busy talking about important things like nachos and his new job at one of our fine city’s mega-companies and my one and only trip to Alaska. 2 hours flew by and were full of wonderful and quick banter, which is like my version of crack cocaine. I didn’t even realize how badly I was losing my Fantasy Football matchup! The date didn’t end with a kiss, but upon my arrival home it did end with a smiley face from him – a texting red flag to some, but a great sign to me. I’m sure his recent breakup will come up in conversation if conversation continues, but I’m not writing him off yet just because he hypothetically might not be over his last girlfriend. As long as the flirtation continues, so will the dating. Or at least that’s the hope – fingers crossed for a second date. Good-luck-reaction-gif Oh, and fingers extra crossed I’m wrong and not everyone internet-stalks dates because if so, homeboy found my very public twitter feed and thus this blog, and WHOOPS… Have we talked about how this blog could be a total dating deal-breaker yet?

Week 5 Recap: ExSex and Work Love (Not as Exciting as it Sounds)

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We’ve officially been writing for over a month, and can I be a total dork and just say thank you to everyone who’s been reading? C and I are having a lot of fun, and it’s weird but I’ve already learned and confirmed some things about what I’m looking for in just this short amount of time.

I’ve learned from sometimes I just don’t care. This week I sucked! I ignored messages from guys, stopped swiping right, and just plain didn’t feel like talking. I ate pizza and didn’t go to the gym, and I regret nothing. C and I set out here vowing commitment to one first date a week, but come on, commitment is my biggest fear. Other than sharks. But, as I said, I. Regret. Nothing. Do I wish I would have had the opportunity to flirt with a stranger? Of course. But sometimes cheese is just as enjoyable (and let’s be real, sometimes a lot more enjoyable).

Girls eat

I’ve learned that not all first dates will end by making plans for a second. In the past almost all my dates have resulted in a second or third or 10th date. This past month though the majority haven’t and side hugs happen. A first date I went on recently was with a total babe. Homeboy had a mun! Unfortunately though it didn’t go as I’d dreamed… AKA we didn’t end the night by making out in Ballard and I didn’t have the opportunity to ask what kind of conditioner he uses, which is all I really want from a date. The making out, not the conditioner advice. So I guess he was the MUN that got away. GET IT?! You see I say things like that and sing along to Maroon 5 sometimes, so that’s probably why I’m not cool enough to date someone with a mun who lives in Ballard.

Girls Maroon 5

I’ve learned that sometimes I’ll backslide with an ex and everyone will be okay. Since starting this blog, I “rekindled” things for a night with a guy I dated a while back. You can read between the lines there because someday my mom or god forbid my dad might read this blog and I’m not ready to come out and say it. It won’t be happening again, but I was relieved that when he left I didn’t feel guilty and he didn’t feel hurt. It was mutually beneficial and of course mutually enjoyable, so at least there’s that.

6YGxxNn

Lastly, I’ve learned (confirmed) that I’m pretty great at reading people. The last few weeks that I was seeing the DILF, while I enjoyed getting to know him, I could tell it wasn’t really going to go anywhere. From the beginning, I was aware he wasn’t in a place to really be dating. I mean, his separation from his wife is still pretty fresh (this sentence shows that I’m dating real adult men and that is TERRIFYING) and he has some baggage. Which might be an understatement. But what was different about this situation is he wasn’t at all interested in sharing his baggage. That made it impossible to really know him, and thus impossible to really date him. We ended our tryst very amicably last week and I really do feel like we’ll remain friends. Sorry to disappoint everyone hoping for future DILF stories, but stay tuned since I like the idea of dating a guy who’s already had someone else push out their offspring.

C

Remember how I said I was bad at dating? Yeah… that’s still a thing.

In my defense, I moved into a new house, went out of town, and then launched a new product at work, so my time for dating was in the negative. I realize those all sound like excuses, and they absolutely are. I don’t like dating, remember? Instead of reiterating how much I dislike the first date/meeting randos from the internet, I will talk about the SUPER healthy relationship I have with my job. Ew?

Case in point: I was chatting with a somewhat cute (you can never tell) fella on OKC. Just your typical back and forth banter where you try to convey a wink/eyelash flutter/whatever via words. It was going alright. True, I forgot to reply to his message for a few days because I forgot he existed, but I think that’s a case for a lot of ladies who are inundated with “I like you”, “let’s meet”, “you’re hot” messages. Honestly guys, let’s work on creativity, shall we?

I DIGRESS.

Back to the point, he basically gave up on me because in his words, “you seem too busy for me, have a nice day.” Straight and to the point, I’ll give him that. And yes, this is a problem of mine. Thank you for pointing that out, random OKC dude. A darling friend of mine in Texas once told me that if I ever want to be happy with a boy, I’ll have to actually make the relationship a priority. I’ve never been one to put the fella first. Not then, and not now. I guess that’s why the few good ones I did have finally burnt out after years of falling below my family, friends, dog, job, etc.

Meh? Too bad? Yeah, I probably work too much. But I love my job, and if I’d rather work than go on a first date… well, that says something. Perhaps the entirety of my 20s is meant to be a time where I put myself first, and worry about finding a partner second (or third, or tenth…) I have always chalked it up to selfishness, but fuck that. It’s not selfish to put yourself first, especially if you’re happy where you are in life, partnered or alone. God damn, this “dating” blog just turned into more of a “screw dating, I’m going to do whatever I want, whenever I want.”

Wasn’t I supposed to learn something in this process? You can’t teach a stubborn gal new tricks… or something.

Tinder Flings & Why I Fail at Online Dating

C post

Oh man… I am bad at this online dating thing.

I have this friend who is a TOTAL babe, and a complete goddess to me on all levels. She’s talented, independent, amazingly smart and makes being single look good.

She has got online dating down to a science. She’s met long term boyfriends, one night flings and everything in between. The girl keeps ongoing long distance lovers who fly across the country to take her on romantic camping trips. I mean… what?!

Needless to say, she was my source of inspiration when I took off to Denver for a few days.

True, I was there for work. Also true, my work involved helping out at the Great American Beer Festival. IMAGINE THE JOY THAT IS ALL THE BEER AND ALL THE BEARDS! It really was a perfect Tinder storm.

And this is where I tell you about my string of one night whatevers (EAR MUFFS, MOM.) Except that didn’t happen. Not even one bit. I think I went on Tinder for about 10 minutes, and then turned my attention to much more important things (see: beer). I was lucky that I didn’t have to wander Denver by myself, as one of my closest friends from work likes beer even more than me (shocking) and joined me for the weekend. So the time I would have spent searching for a random date was spent with someone where small talk wasn’t on the agenda. Thank god.

Total Babe (that’s your new nickname M, you’re welcome) texted me immediately when I got home to ask how my flings went. I told her that I didn’t have one. Not a single fling. Do I regret it? Not at all. A) there were so many handsome fellas to ogle at while consuming mass amounts of beer and B) I would so much rather spend my time with people I KNOW I want to be friends with. I don’t know if that means I will forever be alone because I don’t want to put the effort into trying, or if it truly does mean internet dating isn’t for me.

Every time I try to convince myself it is, I fall back on that idea that chemistry doesn’t just happen because you swipe right. Sure, they can say they build canoes and climb trees, but what happens when you meet them and instead of your canoe building dreamboat (PUNS!) you meet a spark-less narcissistic ass hat who reminds you why your dog is your favorite “person”?

And this is why I fail at dating. I can convince myself on repeat that it’s not worth it, and I don’t want to tell the story of how I read an online profile and fell in love. I don’t have the patience to read profiles and try to find the spark. Because there’s nothing romantic about that.

And this is why my OKC/TINDER/WHATEVER matches shouldn’t date me. Swipe left boys, I’m 90% certain to disappoint.