And for my next trick--

I am currently talking to a married guy, and I just don't give a fuck anymore.

I feel so small.

Sex and the City ruined my life

You know that episode where Berger tells the ladies "he's just not that into you"?

And you know how it became a national phenomenon, with a book and Oprah appearances and a fucking media tsunami?  And then ten years later, there was a dumb movie?

Well, "he's just not that into you" can FUCK RIGHT OFF.

I feel like, if I didn't know about that, I might find some small comfort in still thinking that Mike might want me, or that he's just scared to approach me, or some bullshit fairy tale that would let me sleep at night.

HOWEVER.

Having been exposed to "he's just not that into you" is like being punched in the face every day with the reality that he is, in fact, just not that into me.

"If he wanted to be with me, he'd be with me," I tell well-meaning friends who try to give excuses for his [lack of] behavior.  Empirically, I acknowledge that Berger is right, and I am wasting my time wallowing in what-could-have-been.

That I am denied the tiny pleasure of daydreaming that Mike is as miserable without me as I am without him makes me angry, and for this, I blame Sex and the City.

FOREVER.

I don't believe in magic after all

I went out with a magician.

I feel like this puts me in a whole different dating bracket, like I've leveled up.  The number of people who can say they've dated a magician has to be very small.

I realize that my data is anecdotal, but seriously:  magicians are kind of lame.  Like, there is nothing you can do to make magic cool.  You can dress it in leather and make it wear eyeliner, but at the end of the day, it's still basically your grandpa pulling a quarter out of your ear.

My opinions, of course, are affected by the fact that the one magician I know, who also happens to be the one magician I've dated, turned out to be kind of a pompous horse's ass, and worthy only of being the butt* of endless jokes.

I did not enjoy the date, but I have enjoyed making fun of him and, by extension, myself, for going out with him, so at least I got something out of it.

And really, that's the only thing I got out of it, because he gave me a hug at the end of the night and said, "I don't kiss on the first date."  And I was like, "Your loss," but also, "WHEW."

The magic officially ended when, the next week, he texted that he missed me, which creeped me the fuck out, and I told him we were looking for different things and good luck to him.  I didn't even tell him I hoped we could be friends, because he didn't even reach Friend Potential; that's how bad it was.

I'd had a fairly pleasant relationship with magic before him, but now I am not a fan.

He ruined magic.  Fuck him.



* see what I did there?

Relapse, part 2

I didn't talk about him except in passing, but I went out with a guitarist for a minute before I got hung up on my stupid feelings and shit.

We didn't really talk that much after, but not because of anger or anything, just because it was clear that we weren't going to be anything other than fuck buddies, and we were both fine with that.

So I "revisited" him, and it was fine--better than the Bad Speller--and I'll probably hear from him in another couple of months.

I cannot believe who I am right now.

Relapse

Sometimes it becomes necessary to revisit the past, so I revisited the past with the Bad Speller.

It was not great, but that won't keep me from doing it again.

I feel like I've sunk really low, but I can't be bothered to care, because I've stopped caring about everything.

He must be new

I was talking to a magician* on the phone, and he said, "You sound like you're just a cute little blonde."

And I was like, "Boy, are you in for a surprise."




*Yeah, bitches.  I date MAGIC guys.

Writing out loud

Indulge me for a minute while I run through some of my shit in an attempt to pull it all together.

I mean, obviously Mike and I are not, well, ANYTHING anymore, and it has broken my heart in a thousand ways.  It feels weird to say that, particularly as I embarked on this dating thing without intending to be emotionally involved, and certainly not expecting that I COULD be anyway.  But shit happens, and some of it's awesome and some of it sucks so hard that you wonder what it would be like to just sit on your couch and cry for days and weeks.

Mike is the first guy that made me really, really forget about Zack--yeah, him, way back from the beginning--and that was a huge step for me.  And if we had been together for even another two weeks, I would have been dead in love with him, 100% no question.  I mean, I am--was--almost there as it was.  It tears me up to know that I had the potential to be part of something amazing, then to have it pulled away.

I maintain, still, that fear is the main reason we aren't together, but that is his issue, and I can't control it, as much as I might want to.   I conceded and compromised as much as I could, but it became obvious that he was not willing to risk as much as I was.  To have that feeling, even for a little while, of belonging (even if he didn't feel it too), of knowing this is who I want to BE with makes it really hard to go back to a world without it.  It feels different.  It feels ... not right.

At any rate, even though it took a little bit, I've finally gotten to the point that I don't cry every time I go on a dating website.  Sometimes I do, I admit, but not every time.  Baby steps.

So that's where I'm at: acknowledging that I need to move on, even if I haven't fully accepted that he is not going to be part of my life.  I'm only just beginning to look through profiles without just dully scrolling through names, shrugging off page views and messages and winks.  

Most days I just log off, because I look through pictures and favorites and I don't give a shit because nobody is HIM.  But then, some days, I convince myself to make more of an effort, and I put on a happy face and act like everything is normal, everything is Pre-Mike, and I'm just looking for a good time again.

I just need to get back on the horse* again, if you will.  I'm not trying to forget him--as if I could anyway--but I am trying to at least file him away with the others, so the memory is there when I want it, but it doesn't keep hanging out in the front of my mind and fucking me up on a daily basis.

I feel dumb for spending so much time grieving when we weren't even really together for very long.  I don't care, though, because I'll be done when I'm ready to be done, and not before, and side-eye-ers can fuck right off.

I'll cry as long as I need to, and then I will pick myself up and wipe my face and my nose, and then I will kick some ass.


*and by "horse," I mean "dick," obviously

Me

Truth bomb

Here is some information for those of you that are candy-assed sons of bitches who prefer to girl it up with your fucking passive-aggressive approach to breaking up:

DON'T DO THAT, MOTHERFUCKER.

If you have guts enough to stick your dick in a woman, also have the guts to tell her you don't want to do that anymore.

To stay silent, hoping that she'll forget you exist?
1. Not gonna happen
2. WHAT A FUCKING COWARD

It doesn't even have to be A Thing; it doesn't have to involve face-to-face conversation, or that lame Jerry McGuire business lunch in a public place. All you have to do is say, "This is over," via some sort of communication.

I'm not saying I'll she'll take it well, but it's a hell of a lot better than what you're doing now, which is nothing, ASSHOLE.

Heart. Crack.

I haven't had a lot to say about dating lately, because I've been happy seeing one guy.

Let me tell you about my ideal man:

mid to late 30s
college graduate, preferably post-grad degree
never married
childless
shares my interest in pretentious bullshit stuff like Oscar winning movies and spelling "theatre" like that.

This guy I've been with--I'll call him Mike (because that is his name)--meets the following qualifications of my ideal man:
.
.
.
.
.

Yeah.  ZERO.  He is a 40 year old college dropout, is divorced, has not one, but TWO sons (15 and 19), and likes shit like hunting and fishing and going to the Bass Pro Shop.

BUT.

I like him.  I do.  I really, really do.

And I told him that.  One night, as we were talking (... in bed), this happened:

Me: Mike?
Him: Mmm?
Me: I'm halfway to falling for you.
Him: That's just the orgasm haze.
Me: Nope.

So a week later, after not hearing from him for three days, this happened:

Him: Look you freaked me out with the gf talk. We had both said it was going to be about fun and that's it on the front end. You said u didn't want a relationship and hated kids. I'm not capable of a relationship right now. My kids are priority number 1.

Me: I know your kids are your priority. And truth is, I was caught off guard too.

Him: With them being so much of what I'm about I sometimes feel guilty about being away from them. They grow up so fast and I don't want to miss anything. Especially with the family and longtime friends I've lost lately it makes me even want to spend more time with them.

Me: I get that.

****

At this point, I obviously had to vent to my BFF, and this is the thing I wanted to say to him, but instead I said it to her:

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING AFRAID? YOU DON'T ACT LIKE YOU FEEL GUILTY WHEN YOU'RE WITH ME. THIS IS JUST AN EXCUSE YOU'VE COME UP WITH BECAUSE YOU ARE JUST AS AFRAID AS I AM AND YOU KNOW IT. THEY ARE FUCKING TEENAGERS. EVEN IF YOU DO WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH THEM, THEY HAVE LIVES OUTSIDE OF YOU. THEY DO NOT WANT TO BE AROUND YOU 24/7. OTHER PEOPLE MANAGE TO BE SINGLE PARENTS AND HAVE RELATIONSHIPS TOO; STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKING G.I.R.L. AND JUMP IN. MAYBE IT WILL WORK. MAYBE IT WON'T. BUT STICKING YOUR HEAD IN THE FUCKING SAND IS NO WAY TO LIVE. AND I SPEAK FROM EXPERIENCE SO DON'T TRY TO FUCKING PSYCHOLOGY YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS.

You can see that I definitely have FEELINGS about this. So many FEELINGS, in fact, that I even shared some of them with Mike, which is not the kind of thing I normally do.

****

Me: This is what I think, though, and if I'm wrong, I'm wrong: you're scared. That's fine, because I'm TERRIFIED. I don't want emotions, period, but here they are. And trust me when I say you are literally the last guy I thought I'd start to want to get involved with. You know what? You talk about your kids a lot. A LOT. And I don't mind it the way I mind with other people. I like that you're so cool with them and that you genuinely like them as people. Know how many other fathers I've gone out with more than twice? ZERO. So that says to me that you must be something special, because I NEVER break my own rules, but I was and am willing to step out on a limb for you. It is fucking scary out here, and I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing. I just know that, for now at least, I want to do that, whatever, with you.

[Note: That is pretty mature, I think. Even though dating, in general, has been a huge disappointment and a lot of wasted energy, at least I have gotten the confidence and training to just SACK THE FUCK UP and say what's on my mind, instead of passive-aggressive-ing my way through some kind of soap opera scenario that lasts for 30 years.

On the other hand, saying what I think can also blow up in my face and cause ME a lot of hurt and heartache, so there's ... THAT.]

Him: I've seen too many single dads get involved in something serious and their kids become secondary. I quit seeing a model I saw for a year because she got jealous of my time with them. Easiest decision I ever made. Boys need their dad period.

[NOTE: Why is it important to say his ex-girlfriend was a model?  Know what that says to me, a non-model? "And if I didn't stay with HER, I'm sure not going to stay with you, YOU FUGLY COW."  Oh, good.  Pile it the fuck on.]

[NOTE: WHAT 15 AND 19 YEAR OLD BOYS WANT TO HANG OUT WITH THEIR DAD ALL THE TIME.]

Me: You know how I feel.  I'll leave it to you then.

[NOTE: Knowing good and well it is not going to go in my favor.]

Him: Thank u for understanding.  I'm going to think on this hard for the next few days.

[TRANSLATION: I am not going to talk to you ever again, and I'm hoping you'll forget to ask me about this, so we can just sort of let everything die from neglect, like a houseplant, or your lawn.]

[NOTE: THAT IS A COWARDLY-ASS MOVE AND IF I HAVE THE BALLS TO SAY I WANT SOMETHING MORE, YOU SHOULD HAVE THE BALLS TO SAY YOU DON'T.  TO MY FACE.]

I hate men.  I do.  It was easier to be a non-dating rumored lesbian than to deal with the constant bullshit of mate-hunting.  

Because at least, back then, I was a HAPPY non-dating rumored lesbian.  

Question(s)

What is the best way to suggest to your fuck buddy that you move to the next level?  

And, if he says he's into that, how do you keep yourself from vomiting every time you hear the word girlfriend?

Also, if he turns you down, can you keep sleeping with him, because

OH.

MY.

GOD.

That is all.

Oh. Oh no.

I

am

having

feelings.

FUCK.



I expect this time next week I'll post a diatribe about the capricious nature of man and also how small his dick is.

Knowing your audience

So I'm talking to this guy on OKC, and the messages start to get a little racy.

He asks me if I'm into freaky stuff, and I reply that I'm as vanilla as can be, but I can be persuaded.

He asks what's the weirdest thing I've ever watched, and I reply that I don't really like watching that stuff. (And why would I, Internet?  I am a DO-er, not a watcher.)

I ask what kinds of things he likes to watch, and he replies that he's watched a girl with a dog.

Now, I didn't want to judge, because maybe he was just trying to shock me.  Which he did.

I ask what he likes to DO, since doing and watching are two different things, and he replies by asking me if I would ever do that.

"Be with a dog?" I ask.  "No thanks."

"Ohhhhh, okay, haha," he replies.

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE THAT.

"I don't know if you meant to imply that you are into bestiality," I say, "but that's what this comes off as, and yes, it freaks me out."

"Oh, haha," he says, "no, it's just something I saw once."

"Dude," I say, "next time, you need to reveal your kinks slowly.  Here, let's practice:  What kind of stuff do you like?" because I am a second-chances kind of gal, and I know that sometimes people just spout a bunch of shit via texts/IMs that they'd never say in public.

"Role-playing," he says, which: whatever.  I'm not gonna lie; I like it.

EXCEPT let's say you're ... a nurse, okay, and you work in the ward with comatose people all day.  That's not really a space you want to explore sexually, am I right?  So I read this, "Role-playing," and then I hope and pray the next words aren't "nurse/coma patient."

But no.  "Nurse/coma patient," he says.

"That hits kind of close for me," I say.  "But role-playing can be fun."

"I think nurse/coma patient is hot," he says.  "Can't help it lol."

I see there is no way I'm going to win with this one, so:

It makes sense that you're single

I've been fairly lucky since I've started dating, in that I've only gone out with a couple of guys that I didn't really connect with.

On the other hand, that one guy I thought I was really going to like?  Mr. Lacy Fuck-me Pants?  Has turned out to be the most manipulative game-playing son of  a bitch I've yet encountered.  To then be told that I'M at fault is just icing on the cake.

I would like to tell Mr. Asshole Hypocrisy exactly why I hate him, but I feel like that would make it easy for him to tell everybody that I'm the crazy one.  And the fucked-up thing is, I have actually asked myself  AM I THE CRAZY ONE.

So.  To recap: He treats me like shit, insists that I am inducing drama by accusing him of treating me like shit, blames me for making him treat me like shit, and also, I'm the one who is mentally unstable.

WHAT IS THIS DOMESTIC ABUSE BULLSHIT, AND WHY AM I ACCEPTING IT.

No more.  NO. MORE.

I'm out.

But first:

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

My OKC profile has become fairly popular with Kansans lately.  We all know how I feel about that.

FUCK OFF, KANSAS. GOD.

Surprise, surprise

Currently dating/sleeping with a 40-year-old man with two teenagers.

I like him anyway.

LIKE-like.

Words with douchebags*

"This is a weird conversation," I said.

"You have a nice ass," he said.




*fucked him anyway

Getting around

I had dates with two guys this weekend.  I will not divulge all the details, but I am just going to say that  A GOOD TIME WAS HAD BY ALL.

Me, especially, hurrhurr.

Hello, Hypocrite Jonz

I winked a bunch of guys on Match.  I eagerly await their silence.

Thank you for bein' a friend

Update 1:  I went out a couple of times with the guy I was super-excited about.  The end.

Update 2:  I heard about Adult Friend Finder from another site that I frequent.  Although it bills itself as being for "Sex and Swingers," some people have found longer-lasting relationships there.  And, given that my own recent history has been basically a couple of hook-ups followed by radio silence, I thought maybe my world is ruled by opposites.  Like, maybe if I went on a website that specializes in short-term, no strings attached-type meet-ups, I'd actually find something more lasting.

So I chose an EXTREMELY unrecognizable name (hint: I got it off my nail polish bottle) and did NOT post any pictures or other identifying information.  The VERY LAST THING I need is to be found by my employer's investigative services on what is basically a hook-up site.

I've gotten a couple messages--nothing I want to respond to--and last Saturday, I decided to do some more thorough research.  That is to say, I wanted to see if I recognized anyone from either OKC or Match.com, or from real life.  I also wanted to see if there was anyone I was interested in actually meeting.

I looked around for a while; I'm on the non-paying option, which means that I'm limited in what I can see, so I had a lot of generic silhouetted photos pop up during my search.  Two margaritas later, I notice there's a little box at the top of the screen that reads "Content Filter: On."

"What's this?" I wonder, and change the option from "On" to "Off."  And HOLY SHIT, you guys.  Immediately I was staring at a page full of dicks.  And I don't mean that metaphorically; I mean I was literally looking at A PAGE OF DICKS.

I immediately messaged my BFF:

Me: ... a lot--A LOT--of dudes are posting dick pics, and I am legit SCARED. Like, some of these dicks, [BFF]. I don't even KNOW. Clearly these guys are super proud of their goods, but my god, I look at them and I'm like, "What the hell am I gonna do with that?"

Because the truth is, my dick experience is fairly limited, and some of those guys looked like they were dealing with a form of elephantitis.  Like, a Dick Illness. It was unsettling, and it was frightening. I mean, I ran across one dude who had pulled his business down, between his balls, into his shorts.

Me: Is that a thing? Do people do that?

BFF: I thought only drag queens did that.

Me: How is that supposed to attract a woman?  What was his thought process?  This is just fascinating from a sociological standpoint.

After a little while, I signed off with this thought:

Me: There are a lot of hairless balls in [this state].

There's really nothing I can say to top that.

I think this

If you are over the age of thirty--

NO.  If you are over the age of 14, having 69 as any part of your username is absolutely unacceptable.  That shit is not cute.




Incidentally, this opinion is sponsored by a message I got from a different guy from Kansas.  Pfft.  Fucking Kansas.

Ugh, KANSAS

Despite the fact that I do not live anywhere near Kansas--NOR DO I WANT TO--there's a guy from that pit of  a state messaging me.

I think, all other factors being equal, I would go out with someone from Uzbekistan before I would go out with someone from Kansas.  Uzbekistan, at least, has SOMETHING going on, whereas Kansas ...

I was previously unaware of my deep and burning hatred for that state.  Internet dating is educational for many reasons.

This is unexpected

I'd had a good bit of luck with OkCupid, but it's kind of winding down now.  At the same time, my traffic for Match is picking up.

The BEST thing about Match.com is that, when somebody winks or messages me, and he is not only not my type, but also potentially an ax murderer, I have the option of the site sending him a generic "No thanks" message.  I don't even have to compose it myself!  That is so useful!

... real life should have an option like that.  Get on it, please.

Mother Nature can suck my dick

I hate it when I'm about to go out with a guy who is unbelievably fuckable, and then I get my motherfucking period.

Cut a girl a break, please, UTERUS.  Why you gotta be cock-blockin' me now?

Popular

Right now I have four different guys tryin' to get wit' me: two I don't want, one I'm halfway excited about, and one that I want to be with forever and ever, but he might be too awesome even for me.

Isn't that the way it goes?  Doesn't matter if you're in junior high or you're a grown-ass woman.

Anyway, I am categorizing them as follows: granny panties, granny panties, black boyshorts, lacy fuck-me pants, respectively.

This is a good system.

Honesty is important

Does anybody else hate it when you've just recovered from your Sex Face and your guy asks, "What are you thinking?"

Ugh, dudes are the WORST about asking this question!  Why I gotta be thinking anything, huh?  There are times when I've got a mind empty of thoughts, and I can tell you that post-sexercise is one of them.

The other night, though, when I'd talked the Bad Speller into another round, because I'm good like that, he asked me, "What are you thinking?"  And instead of lying, I told him EXACTLY what I was thinking:

"I was thinking about how much I hate giving handjobs."

Bingo, kiddies!  No more questions, and best of all, NO MORE HANDJOBS.

True or False

A guy whose username is IMGoodNBed is the victim of his own wishful thinking.

Discuss.

Ma Bell

Several guys have asked me for my number.  "Do you want to talk or text?" they ask.

I hate talking on the phone in general, and texting is a pain.  Without vocal inflection, a message can take on any meaning, depending upon what mood I'm in when I read it.  I will, seriously, reread and agonize over text messages until I drive myself into a deep depression/ice cream buffet.

Instead, I always say that I'm comfortable with our current method of communication, and so far, no guy has quit talking to me because of that.

So, that's a no, dudes.  No, I do not want to talk or text.

My phone number is a delicate flower, and I think I will just keep her to myself*.



*This sounds sexual, but it's not.

So That's Done

The Bad Speller and I have very different ideas as to where our relationship should go.

He is Mr. Right Now, for me, but he wants me to be his future Mrs. Bad Speller*.  You see the problem.

So we are not seeing each other again, in order to avoid hurting his tender feelings.  It was his idea, and we had an argument about it that went something like this:

Me:  Why we gotta be labelin' stuff  after a week?
Him:  I  LIKE YOU.
Me:  How can you even know that?
Him:  I LIKE YOU.
Me:  Why don't we just have a good time?
Him:  I LIKE YOU.

I'm not good at the breakup stuff, even if it doesn't really count as a breakup, because what we were doing doesn't really count as a relationship.

This dating stuff.  Good lord.


*Not that I blame him.  I'm awesome.

Discovery!

It turns out that I WILL go out* with a guy who uses the wrong form of your/you're.

I did not know this about myself.  Interesting.






*Also, I will fuck him.

Winking is dumb

On Match.com, there's a feature very similar to Facebook's poking, whereby strangers can "wink" at someone they think is cute.

First, the idea is dumb, okay?  In real life, I can't tell a wink from a blink, and sometimes maybe a person doesn't mean to wink at anyone, and she just has something in her eye, so this is not an invitation for you to DANCE UP ON HER.

That never happened.

Second, winking is what people who haven't paid the monthly fee do in order to get someone who has laid out her hard-earned money to message THEM, which is allowed, I guess.  It just seems devious to me.  Also, I would like to be reimbursed for that.

Third, every single person who has winked at me has been old and/or ugly.

THIS SYSTEM IS BROKEN.

I am hot

Well, look at that.  At least half of the users on OKC are uglier than I am.  Top 50th percentile!

This is worrying, though:

... because the only new person in my match results is wearing eyeliner and a cowboy hat.  Not even a REAL cowboy hat, but the kind that Bret Michaels would wear--really small and with the sides rolled up.

I am concerned about OKC's standards for attractiveness.  What does that mean for me?  Am I really only as attractive as an eyelined Rock of Love wannabe?  

I think I'm insulted.

Also, this makes me twitch in righteous anger:

AS IF I would have ugly friends. Pfft.

Where are all the good men?

During a conversation re: a message I got from an asshole on OKC--

BFF: I have to say that the most educated, well-spoken men I found were the ones on eHarmony. I guess you do need to pay to get the good ones.

Me: eHarmony is a pimp, and not in a good way.

Dear Lord in Heaven

Dear Match.com Uhhhh ..... Yeah, she sparks my interest. Thanks for sending her to me..... 

I just ...

So THIS happened

My First Foot Fetishist

Replying like a sissy

Here is a message I got today:

well based on your answers to the sex questions...we need to meet I am 5'11..185...brown/blue..athletic body...lets talk..see where it goes

 I don't think my answers to the sex questions were anything revelatory or scandalous; if anything, they were far more conservative than my answers to any other category of question.  Maybe he thinks he can teach me something.

At any rate: NO.

I am a polite person, so I replied, but it took a while to figure out how to address this issue.

Choice 1: No thank you.
Choice 2: erm ... no.
Choice 3: I don't think we're a good match.  For ANYTHING.

I went with a slightly less hostile version of Choice 3 ("Thanks, but I don't think we're a good match for anything.") and I eagerly await his reply, in which I'm sure he'll call me a cock tease.

Weeding out

from an eHarmony match:

So that's ME out of the running.

Are you a detective? Let me give you a clue.

re: profile pictures

When I make the effort to click on your profile, I am there to see if you are moderately attractive to me.

I am not there to see pictures of your dog, your dog's dick, or you with your Nana.

I am not there to see pictures of Prince Harry.

I am not there to look at you at your best friend's bachelor party.

It's elementary, Holmes.

Have you tried turning it off and on again?

On match.com, at least, it seems that the majority of the men have jobs in IT.

Assuming they're not lying about this, I would just like to ask one question:

When you spend the majority of your time fixing the innumerable problems caused by technology, why would you turn to technology to find love/sex/other?

I would never ask someone I work with to set me up.  I feel like all my work friends have friends like ME, and one ME dating another ME would cause the world to implode upon itself.

But, I don't know, I guess ... it's like, if you spend your entire day telling people extracting people from a cult, would you go to the cult leader and ask him to get you a girlfriend?

I don't even know what I'm saying.

Question

Now, what the fuck am I supposed to think when a guy lists "shopping/antiques" as one of his interests?

That shit is not helping you, dude.  NOT. HELPING.

PROOFREAD, ASSHOLES

"... single niece guy ..."

Really?  REALLY.

Altar Call

Apparently match.com is the new eHarmony, in that most of my matches spend a great deal of time talking about their love for God.

It's not that I think loving God is bad; it's just that these types are generally not going to want to get down to business.

I know, because that's how I was, but then I got over it.

Ha

I mistakenly used a picture on my match.com profile of myself when I'm in the middle of a blink.

I don't care; I'm keeping it.

I joined match.com

It's becoming difficult to remember my usernames.

What I will ignore

By now you should know that I am a picky bitch, which possibly explains my sad Singleton status.

Here are more things that will cause me to skip over your profile:

• your profile pic is of you, shirtless
• you are pictured on a bed
• you are clearly using a picture from which you cropped your last girlfriend
• your picture has a kid in it
• you are flexing in your picture
• you are flexing while pointing your phone at a mirror (though I admire your agility)
• your username is a sentence (ex: mynameislemon)
• you reference an ex-girlfriend
• your headline is "HAN SEEKING LEIA," or any "geek seeking geek" equivalent
• your headline is "LOOKING FOR A LIFETIME LOVE" or any other Kenny G-sounding bullshit
• you admit to not reading books
• your favorite band is Dave Matthews

Deal breakers, all; shut 'em DOWN.

Your profile is awful

I admit that, for all three sites that I've joined, I've used the same description for that part of the profile where you're supposed to describe yourself.  I use the same paragraph for my "about me" on Facebook.  Sure, it's lazy, but those words are accurate, direct, and funny, okay, so that's why I keep re-using them.

I wouldn't care if I kept seeing the same description pop up over and over again on dating sites (actually, though, I've only noticed a teeny bit of crossover; clearly the men in my area are not desperate conducting sociological research like I am).   If what you have works, why waste time and effort finding a new way to say the same old thing?

What I am sick and tired of, though, is the following:

• descriptions written in textspeak.  My god, is it too much trouble to type out those two extra characters?
• bad spelling.  your vs. you're.  there vs. their vs. they're.  definite.  surprise.  believe.  This is stuff you should have learned by the fifth grade.
• any use of lol.  Don't lol at your own words.  It's unattractive.
• grammatical errors.  It's not could OF; it's could HAVE, dumbass.  
• emoticons.  Save that shit for texting.
• cheezburger-ing.  Are you a cat?  ARE YOU? 
• separating phrases or sentences with ellipses.  It's really annoying ... I don't know why people do it ... Wait, yes I do ... Because they're stupid lol
• ignoring the shift key.  CAPITALIZE YOUR GODDAMN SENTENCES, MORONS.

What I am learning, over and over, is that I am going to die alone, because every available man in the entire world makes me want to stab something.  And that's before I even meet them in person.

I joined chemistry.com

What a fucking disappointment.

True/False

A person whose username includes the word "poet" writes free verse diatribes against capitalism and/or feminism, without using punctuation or capitalization.

Also, he collects his "poems" in a composition book that has a flipbook on one side of a motorcycle driving through a ring of fire.

Discuss.

Hide me

There's this one guy who keeps sending me messages, and I'm having a really hard time telling him to back off.  Like, he's not rude or vulgar or anything, I'm just majorly uninterested.

Plus, he's older than my preferred age range and, I mean, it's not like I'm 22 or whatever, I just ... god, I just don't want to go out with someone who has more in common with my dad than with me, okay.

Anyway, it's like 2:30 am, and I've got massive insomnia, so I'm creepin' all over profiles.  OKC, though is the WORST, because it won't let me hide that I'm online.  It's like a beacon, right there, on my profile pic: ONLINE NOW!  Damn, OKC, let a girl stalk anonymously, you dig?  Jesus.

So the point is, this guy sends me a message that basically points out the fact that I'm a night owl, uses the wrong form of "you're," and sends me, more or less, screaming  into the night; that is to say, I logged off immediately, and I'm PISSED, because I'm still under the "browse anonymously" option, and now I won't know who looked at my profile.

Goddammit, OK Cupid, cut a girl a break.  GIVE ME A CHANCE TO CREEP WITHOUT BEING CREPT.

True/False

A person whose username incorporates the word "honest" or "nice" is probably not.

Discuss.

Posing

Look, I'm not saying that a person should use photographs of himself, like, saving a baby from a fire or anything, but how fucking hard is it to point a camera at yourself?

I mean, one of my pictures is a self-portrait, but that's sort of an inside joke between some of my friends and me.

It's not rocket science, people.

Also, using a picture of yourself that you took in a mirror with your iPhone?  That shows a sad lack of initiative.

But the worst is when you're 33 years old and using your fucking high school yearbook photo.

GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK.

If you are that lazy about making your dating profile, that tells me you're going to be lazy about some pretty damn important other things.  That's something you don't want to reveal immediately, know what I mean?  Wait a little longer before you disappoint me.

ETA: Also, even if you work up the energy to point a camera at your own face and snap a photo, TRY NOT TO LOOK LIKE A MURDERER.

ETA: Also, it's probably not a good idea for you--a MAN, presumably--to post a picture of your crotch, especially when it is wearing lace undies and is accompanied by a corset and garter belt.

Opinions

Is a dude with a soul patch to be taken seriously, Y/N?

In fact, can a guy with any kind of ironic facial hair--mutton chops, sculpted beard, etc.--be taken seriously, Y/N?

For me: No and No.

I cannot help but laugh, and that would not make me a very good date.

Maybe my profile should be amended to say this: "Sensitive gentlemen and hipster douchebags need not apply."

Of course, this will lower my chances of finding a date by half.

ETA:  Also, a Moe Howard bowl cut.  Dude, come ON.

I unjoined plentyoffish.com

Plentyoffish.com is pretty much the embodiment of the old stereotype of internet dating sites.  Lots of desperate people, dying to get in my pants.

I couldn't handle the pressure, or the 5000 messages.  It was just too, too much.

It scared me.

I joined plentyoffish.com

I feel like the prettiest girl on Whore Island.

True/False

A person whose profile picture consists of his (not-that-taut) abs is going to make me go the gym on a first date.

Discuss.

Hmm.

re: my "really great" personality - This website thinks I'm fat and ugly.

re: how bad guys want me: THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.

Oh god

I am a 71% match with a bisexual dude in his 30s who does not want to "meet [anyone], hook up with [anyone], or fuck [anyone], soo [sic] go somewhere else with that bullshit, thank you!!!"

He would prefer, instead, the company of my panties.

True/False

A person whose username incorporates the word "badass" can most likely be beat up by a kindergartner.

Discuss.

Dodging Bullets

During my totally-legitimate-and-not-at-all-creepy stalking of Zack's profile, I got a message in my OKC inbox.

This is what it said:

Hi Gorgeous, 
I scrolled through your profile and your charming pic caught my sight! Am single and I'm here to look for my soul mate. I see some potentials in you and the inner glow in your eyes lights me up glancing through your pic. I'm new in all these and do not come around here often, maybe we'd hook up on my email wannaseemypenis@myflyisopen.com*, I hope to hear from you via my email! Good night and sweet dreams. 
K--

All right, I admit it's not that bad. But still, come on. The inner glow in my eyes dimmed somewhat on account of I was narrowing them in disbelief.  I don't think he'd be too interested in my potential to mock the shit out of him for this email.

*not his email, but probably somebody's

Spit Take

I'd gotten about 75% done with the questions and whatnot, and then OKC decided to show me matches in my area.  I like how they don't make you wait (...EHARMONY), because one thing I am universally known for is my lack of patience.

So I'm scrolling through my matches--making fun of them the whole time, because that's what I do--when whose picture should pop up but the guy-who-would-be-my-ex-if-we'd-had-an-official-relationship (hereafter referred to as ZACK M--- because that is his name).

If I lived in a sitcom, I'd have spit water right out of my nose.

Really, Z?  REALLY.

Because this is the same guy who'd JUST told me--via email, mind you--that he didn't want to be with me because, AND I QUOTE: 

The truth is, any sort of relationship with me- even a superficial one, really isn't going to work out. I have a horribly busy work life and I am busy being self indulgent and self absorbed. I will not lead you on anymore. I am not  usually a jerk, however I am on the rebound and in a transitional stage of my life. 

Hmmm.  Well.  How nice for all of us that you'e decided not to be selfish anymore, and that you have, in fact, decided to transition right into dating PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT ME.

Probably my reaction to this is a good example of why he chose not to self-indulge with ME.  Well, fuck it, I'm PISSED.

Me:   OH MY GOD ZACK M--- IS ON OKCUPID AND HIS PROFILE JUST CAME UP ON MINE. WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK.

• WE ARE A 73% MATCH.

LAST ONLINE JUNE 8. WHAT. THE. FUCK

BFF:   Zack M---? Pssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Fuck him.

This is why she is my BFF.

Obviously, I clicked on him. How could I not, internet?  HOW COULD I NOT.

I of course fell down the rabbit hole on that one, and spent more time than I should have answering questions to see if we were compatible and all that co-dependency bullshit that a week of Mumford and Sons and ice cream should have knocked out of me.

Me: I am answering all these questions. Guess who is an 86% match now. Also, no one's messaged him this week. HMMMMM.


BFF:  um. Why are you creeping on him???


Me:  I am obviously creeping on him because WE ARE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER [BFF]. hee. Beware bunnies!


BFF:  I'm guessing you are going to attempt rabbit stew soon.


I spammed her with a series of gifs that best expressed my inner monologue.

And then I went back to creeping on his profile.

Writing Bullshit

In addition to the esteem-leveling prospect of lowering oneself to dating via internet, there's also the panic that accompanies the chore of describing oneself to strangers.

It's kinda hard to be charming without being an assface.

Plus, the questions these sites ask!  They're so ... ugh.  Once again, I had to turn to my BFF for advice.

Me:  What are the first things people usually notice about me?  I feel like it would be arrogant to put "... that I'm awesome."

BFF:  1.  You have a winning smile 2.  You have big blue eyes 3.  You make people laugh (just don't write because you are making fun of them).

This seemed reasonable enough, so that's what I used, with the disclaimer that I'd gotten that answer from my BFF, and that I realized this was a totally biased answer, but it made me look good.

The "... so suck it" was implied.

Then I had to write all this bullshit about myself and my favorite books and shit, and I never know how much to write and how much to leave out.  Like, I could write about my favorites all the livelong day, but who wants to read a fucking novel when you're just trying to find somebody who'll agree to wet your pecker?

Nobody, that's who.

But OK Cupid is like a nagging English teacher, wanting me to write 500 words on my profile.  What the fuck, OKC?  Is this a college entrance exam or what?

I did the best I could, but I don't really like putting all my business in writing (when I'm not writing anonymously), so I never made it to 500.

I suppose I could have upped the word count by typing "fuck" 20 or 30 times.  Goddammit.  Why didn't I think of that sooner?

Choosing Sides

There are like six billion dating sites out there, so first I had to decide which one to use.  I turned to an old standby, eHarmony, because I had an account with them almost ten years ago, and I figured it would be less work than any other, newer site.

Well, guess what:  things have changed a lot since I last visited eHarmony, and it turns out that it sucks even more now than it did then.  Hoops galore, and I don't have the legs for jumping.  

So, armed with valuable advice from my BFF ("... anyone named Chip should be avoided at all costs."), I did the best I could until she asked if she could see my profile.

Me: I guess ... if I could figure this fucking thing out. It won't put my pics on my profile page, and it's being an asshole. 

That should probably be my capsule description, right?
"Hello, I'm [Lemon, Out]. I can't figure this fucking thing out and it's being a giant asshole. Let's get busy."

Me: It says my profile is only 80 percent complete, but I answered all their fucking questions and put up three pictures THAT IT'S NOT DISPLAYING ON MY PROFILE PREVIEW, so what the hell, eHarmony? WHAT. THE. HELL.

And THEN--and this was where the camel turned around and was like, "If that fucking straw comes anywhere near me ..."--I did a search for new matches. How many lucky guys did I get matched with?

NOT A DAMN ONE.

Me: See ya, eHarmony.  Lemme see what OK Cupid has to say about that.

I switched over to OK Cupid and it was immediately evident that I was going to like this one much better, mostly on account of it's free. Also, there are probably going to be a lot more people on OKC who don't care about marriage and all its attendant bullshit, which is FINE BY ME.

The First One

I was recently dumped via email by a dude I wasn't really going out with anyway.  Regardless, it fucking sucked.

I don't want to get married, but I was reminded, during the short time this guy and I were together, that I really like relationship-y things, like talking and kissing and cuddling and, oh yeah, SEX.

I don't really work in an industry that employs a bunch of men, and the ones I work with are either married or gross.

I've always hated dating, and my relationship-y experience is fairly limited.  I don't do clubs or bars, and I DON'T want my mom to find me a nice man.

So where does a woman in my situation turn to get her date on?  The internet, of course.  The goddamn, fucking internet.