A Book on Dating

I’ve tossed around a couple book ideas off and on in the past couple of years, and I really want to write one of essays just about my life because I’m funny and interesting shit occasionally happens to me. The other one is most definitely going to be about dating. I mentioned it in a post last week.

In the last year or so, especially, a couple of my friends and I have realized we have plenty of material for that one with our varied experiences.

That said, here is a sampling of our chapter titles for the book we will get around to co-authoring… I’ll let you know when the preorder is available on Amazon.

– Why long distance relationships are often a bad idea OR the time I got that tattoo

– So you’ve been cheated on OR I’m going to burn your house down, (redacted)

– Don’t date your coworkers or if you do, make sure they’re not idiots and on prescription drugs

– Things you do not ask/say on a first date (LIST)

– Does that approach actually work for you?

– No I do not like dragons

– Those we’ve and lost (and by loved we mean just used for sex)

– When you just dont give AF (making out with people you haven’t spoken to at the bar)

– An open letter to all the guys I’ve made out with who’ve since come out as gay

– Why I should have destroyed the bike and other regrets from an almost marriage

– Why not to study abroad with your ex

I’m sorry about the time I was talking shit and didn’t realize I had called you and you heard everything.

– M&Ms with your face on them and other signs you should call the police

– No I will not fuck you with a strap-on on and other dealbreakers

– 50 Shades of Grey’s popularity does not mean we are all into BDSM and other myths

– “Are you my mother?” “No, I’m Fucking Not”

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And people wonder why it’s so hard to find love these days

Seriously, Dad, I warned you. Don’t read this one. Skip it.

OK. So. It’s been a while, but you know I’ve gotten on and then off and then on Bumble like 4 times since I last told you about it. Anymore, it’s almost solely for blog content. Other options are funny stories either for my eventual career in stand-up comedy or one of the books I’m going to write. (Stay tuned for next week’s blog featuring the chapter titles for that book. I’m pretty proud of them and hope nobody steals ’em before I get around to writing the thing — and Dad, don’t read that one either).

Two of those times I re-downloaded Bumble were because I was drunk. I’ll admit it. I was drunk and feeling slightly sorry for myself and lonely. One was because I hadn’t had any good blog content in a while. And the last one was simply because “Fuck it, why not?”

I still am not ready to pay for a site. I know you get what you pay for and all that but last time I paid I got a bunch of middle-aged rednecks and a former magistrate from the county I used to work in interested in me. Not my target demographic… And guess what, even if you’ve been single as long as I have, you still get to have some standards. At least that’s what my therapist says. And some magazine articles.

In all seriousness though – I am for reals, 100 percent the happiest I have been since maybe ever. I have a great life. Like, real great. It’s just that sometimes, randomly, I would like to maybe have somebody to watch shows, go to events and also makeout with. I have or have had some combination of those recently, but they’re not all coming from the same person.

So yeah. What now? Do I pay anyway? Do I settle? Do I wait? How much do I care?

It depends on the day for that last one.

I’m writing this blog post fresh off a conversation with a local cop on the app who within 4 minutes of us messaging let me know he would like to bury his face in my underwear drawer.

I wish that was the craziest thing I’ve ever heard on one of those sites, but alas… have we forgotten the dragon thing?

When I asked Officer Douchebag if he always talked to girls he’d just met that way, he unmatched me. Therefore, we are a dream that can never be and he will have to find someone else’s underwear to mess with. Good luck to that girl. I’m sure she’s out there.

Bless these apps though for giving people the balls to be able to say whatever the fuck they want right up front. From my understanding, saying what they want varies wildly between the sexes. For women that seems to mean more saying what they want out of like, the future, and for men it seems to be what they want in bed. It is efficient though at least. Thanks for only wasting 5 minutes of my time (how long it took before you told me you wanted to choke me during sex) before one or both of us was able to realize it wasn’t gonna work…

I have collected some screenshots that make me wonder what these guys’ angle is and how successful they are with it. Because, damn. And others I would have screenshotted but I swiped left too quickly because they either looked like a murderer, or their name was Gary, and I can’t date a Gary, I’m sorry Garies of the world…

(Also have bad luck with anyone’s name starting with J – there have been several – so I should probably skip those too, but I’m trying to stay open-minded.)

Is paranormal investigator a legit thing besides for the guys that do TV shows on it? How much money is in that line of work?

George, nobody believes that’s a picture of you.

Michael, I’m open to learning about your personality but when your only photo is an X-ray I can’t.

This one sneaks in his sexual preferences. Oh, I’m shy and like UofL and want to DOMINATE YOU IN BED.

This one too. “I enjoy bourbon, hiking, hanging out with my dog, and I WANT TO HAVE ALL THE THREESOMES”

Speaking of, there are also always the couples looking for a third and good luck to them. That’s a no thank you from me. And also who cheated? Because you share a Facebook account so someone did.

The second I don’t have a sense of humor about it all, I’ll sign off all the sites and apps for good. But for now, they’re at least goldmines in the story department. And that book won’t write itself.

In case you’re curious as to how my dating life is going…

I had this metaphor in mind for how online dating was like Pokemon Go, but not in a good way, because you catch all of the crazies and you don’t want to and then I realized I may not understand Pokemon Go and it all fell apart. But I also don’t really understand dating these days either, so maybe it does work? #fullcircle #inception

I know what you’re thinking – L, you are SUCH a catch. How on EARTH are you not spoken for yet? And to that I say – I guess this screen on my Bumble account speaks to that.

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Dating is exhausting. Or at least, thinking about dating is. Movies and TV shows where you just run into each other at the grocery or something are bullshit. I go to the grocery on the reg and have yet to be hit on. Even on days I don’t wear my yoga pants.

I just looked and it’s been over a year since I’ve updated you on my dating life. I’ve been on a good amount (in my mind anyway) of dates in that time. So I haven’t given up ALL hope. But you guys.

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I made the mistake of staying on Tinder until earlier this summer. Because I guess I needed attention.

About this time last year, I met a guy, Jared, through there who was in town for the week from work from Pennsylvania and I figured we’d get a drink, why not.

A drink turned into much more – including him continuing to text me once he went back to Pennsylvania and making plans to meet up when I went up to see my cousins because he was only a couple hours away. OH. And he managed to finagle his way onto another work trip down here a couple months after we originally met. He picked me up from the airport when I got back to Louisville, yes there was distance but we were seeing what happened because we’d had such good chemistry and conversation and stuff.

Example text, and in case you want to know my flirting style:

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Until he went back to Pennsylvania after that second visit and CEASED EXISTING BASICALLY.

The fuck?!

Aside – Will we ever be past ghosting? I hate it. So much. It’s a common theme these days. Because why actually tell someone how you feel when you can just disappear? HA. Feelings.

If only that was the end, y’all. But it wasn’t.

Earlier this summer, he apparently needed to feel better about himself and his shittiness so he messaged me on Facebook and acknowledged that he was an asshole and what he did was wrong. And that he regretted it because he liked me and he fucked up.

To all of that I said… Yup. You’re right. He asked if he could text me again and I allowed it because I wanted to see how far he would take the apology and try and figure out why he even bothered. We talked for about a week before, to nobody’s surprise, he disappeared again. I wrote a strongly worded message in response to that one and then sent three middle finger emojis the next time I got drunk. Because I am a classy lady that way.

Then I had this exchange and was done.

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In the winter, I changed it up and tried Bumble – a novel concept in that it’s basically Tinder but the girl has to initiate the conversation. No problem. I’m a feminist. Within a few weeks, I’d re-met someone from my high school who I kind of knew back in the day and he asked me out after a few days of talking.

We had an awesome first date – one of the best I’ve had in a while. Great conversation, a lot in common, he was really smart and I liked making out with him. Here’s the catch – he was unemployed. And living at home. I get extenuating circumstances and stuff, but the way he made it sound, he’d gotten fired. And he had no idea what he wanted out of a new job, his future, anything really.

I’m not nitpicky, but you gotta have some direction.

We went out a couple more times – had a conversation about how he was a horrible texter/communicator which should have tipped me off – and then he decided he didn’t want anything more serious than a hookup. Which I had to get him tell me after much prodding because he again, didn’t have his shit together in any way, really.

I deleted the app. Then re-added it.

Got some shit like this…

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I’m all about flirting but I’m not gonna play a game with you. Especially when I’m not entirely sure that it’s not gonna end in an unwelcome and unrequested dick pic.

A couple months ago I went on a couple dates and was talking fairly seriously – and fairly long, actually – with a guy from Indiana. That right there goes against everything in me, because Indiana.

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Long story short since hopefully you’re seeing the theme here… all was good until it wasn’t. Meaning three dates in he suddenly “didn’t have time to date right now.” Which is funny cause he was on an alleged dating site trying to meet people. To date. Allegedly.

So. In conclusion. I have trust issues. And need a break. And am taking one. I’m not going looking. A relationship can come find me. Maybe in the grocery.

Somethin’ to talk about

OK, so the other day I got really obsessed with my stats and managed to find the ones that had gotten the most reads in the past five years. And oddly enough, the moth one was the winner. Ugh, moths. I just gagged.

Anyways. Another thing I found in my stats search was the top most-commented-on blogs in the past five years. (Shout-out to Jennifer for being the number one – and number three – commenter. BFF.) I was a little less surprised at these, compared to the ones from the most-read list. Seems you all had a lot of thoughts on online dating and helping me decide whether or not to put a life-size poster of Robert Downey Jr. above my bed (which still might happen one day, by the way).

Here they are, though, the five most-commented-on blogs in the past five years:

5. Momma said…

I was asked by my daughter to write a little something this week for Mother’s Day. My daughter is Laura, one of the reporters for this paper. I think she is very good at what she does, of course. That being said, please don’t judge me on what I am about to write.

4. Remembering the end of an era

Harry Potter has been over for a while now. No new books, no new movies. I refuse to accept it.

3. I came, I saw, I winked. And then I moved on.

It was a month when my insomnia came back full-force, when my anxiety moved from threat level yellow (where it stays most of the time) to red-orange or orange-red or whatever that crayon color is. It was a month when I had paid $35 and all I was getting for my money was added stress. And that’s something I definitely don’t need.

2. Getting all crafty up in this piece

Thanks to a well-timed Groupon and a week I didn’t have to buy groceries, I splurged on two canvas prints from a Web site. The pictures I chose for the canvas-izing – yeah I made that word up, so what – are my two favorites from the trip. And there’s a third in the running.

1. Hurry up and wait

So maybe the first couple nights I was a little slutty with the winking (it’s a feature where you basically send people a “wink” whose profile you liked). Aaaaaand nothing has come of it.

And of course there’s an honorable mention for this one, too..because it was tied for number of comments with the one my momma wrote. It was the very first “Sounds familiar,” from WAAAAY back in November of 2009.

Sounds like…CKR (including me)
I am not drunk. I will recite the pledge.
Pledge alligien to american to united states of america.

I came, I saw, I winked. And then I moved on.

One month. That’s how long it took me to decide.

It was a month when my insomnia came back full-force, when my anxiety moved from threat level yellow (where it stays most of the time) to red-orange or orange-red or whatever that crayon color is.

It was a month when I had paid $35 and all I was getting for my money was added stress. And that’s something I definitely don’t need.

Also, do you know how many drinks you can buy at the bar for that much? Like 6, if you tip a buck or so on each one. More if you’re buying beer.

So yeah, so I quit Match.

When my month I paid for runs out at the end of this week, I’m dunzo.

I cancelled my subscription last night and afterwards? Got the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a month.

It’s not for money reasons. It’s not because I got too impatient trying to find the “love of my life.” It’s because I didn’t like how it made me feel.

Now. I’m not knocking the process. I think there are some people that do well with that option when it comes to dating. And obviously, it works for them, because I know people that have met good people and have great relationships that started with an online dating site. But it’s just not for me.

In this past month, I have cared more about what strangers think of me than I have in a long, long, long, long time. And I let it determine how I felt about myself.

When I was in high school, and silly about relationships as high schoolers can sometimes be, I cared so much about what other people thought. My mood was often determined by one specific boy’s feelings – or lack thereof – about me. I worried about everything I said or did when it came to him because one wrong word, one wrong action would mean the end. It would mean something was wrong with me, never him. (When in reality, looking back, it was SO him. Always. Weirdo.)

That’s when I was 17. And here we are, 11 years later, and I’m back in that mindset. I was letting what was happening – or not happening, actually – on that site determine how I felt about myself.

“Oh, I sent him a message and he hit the ‘no thanks’ button. Something must be seriously wrong with me. Bet he thinks my picture is bad and I’m not pretty.”

I’m not proud of these thoughts, people, but they’re there. They’d been down to a very dull roar for such a long time, but within the last few weeks, there they were, clear as day.

And I debated all day about writing those thoughts above. Because I’m not looking for reassurance or to be built back up. I know the good things about myself. I know the bad things about myself. I know that I more than likely think there are many, many more bad things than others do. But this online dating thing brought all of these feelings back up.

It’s a different world on there. The regular way of meeting people, if there is one – through a friend, through a group you’re in, through work, at a bar – is taken away. This method is strictly based on looks and how well you sell yourself in a profile with limited words and pre-determined questions.

By looking at my profile, guys aren’t going to get that I’m funny. That I am a great friend, that I take care of those I love, that I have pretty eyes when you get up close and what I’m like in a relationship.

Instead they’ll get a few pictures of me I think actually turned out well and answers to questions like “Do you smoke? How often do you drink? What sports do you enjoy? Which of these five animals do you like?”

And then they determine if they want to email me more or cut me off completely? And I’m paying people to help me with this?

No thanks.

My shrink said if I decided to quit Match I should write about being an Online Dating Survivor. And I guess that’s what I’m doing right now.

Because I survived the experience. I got out before the anxiety and frustration and depression it brought on swallowed me whole.

Thank God.