Once upon a tinder

Once upon a tinder

Confession: I am 100% addicted to tinder. I have absolutely no desire to meet most of the people I see on it, but I’m a people watcher, and tinder is kind of people watching at its best, because tinder voyeurism means you get just a little snippet without actually having to be around people. Most days the not being around people is the preferable part of it.

I love it when I find someone on tinder who’s profile makes me literally laugh out loud, like this one.

Me: Godless heathen. New in town. Irreverent humor. Real. Well educated. Kind. Prefer one on one to big groups. Athletic. Outdoorsy. If it’s broke, I can fix it… 6’4″

You: Down like a fat kid on a see saw with the above. Smart. Kind. Athletic. Real. Lower right quadrant of the hot crazy matrix. Rocks trail shoes or heels equally well.

It’s the “Lower right quadrant of the hot crazy matrix” part that got me. Well…that in addition to the “Down like a fat kid on a see saw” part. Either way it was funny as hell, because the hot crazy matrix itself is funny as hell, and if you’ve never seen it, you should take 7 minutes and watch it in the embedded link.

Now I think I’ll go update my own tinder to include “TBH, I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley.” It’ll go nicely with the rest of the sarcasm on my bio. Besides…if the “hot” part of the hot crazy matrix was optional, I’d fall in to the unicorn zone, and unicorns should have Bentleys…

Trigger warning #metoo

Trigger warning #metoo

If you’re uncomfortable with the f word, I highly suggest you do NOT read this post. If you proceed and find yourself incredibly offended, it’s your own fault.

It takes an awful lot to offend, embarrass, or absolutely disgust me. A friend of mine actually said it best when he said I have dude humor. It’s true. I can hold my own with the guys, and in fact I prefer hanging with the guys to dealing with the high maintenance, drama filled girl shit most of the time.

  • I can’t believe I can talk to you like I talk to my guy friends.
  • You really don’t have much of a filter between your brain and your mouth do you?
  • I can’t believe you said that. (I get this one a LOT!)
  • You are like the least girly girl I know.

I get variations of things like this said to me ALL the time. I actually like it. Being “one of the guys” is generally the easiest way to go about things. Honestly, I’d rather be able to talk about things that are “taboo” than bury my head in the sand and pretend they don’t exist. Like, I can hang out with my girl friends, but I can also carry my own when I’m around their husbands and boyfriends too, and in a situation where everyone is around, you’re more likely to find me shooting the shit with the guys than you are to find me gossiping with the girls.

Getting to my point, I owe one giant damn apology to EVERYONE who took any time at all during that week or so last month to post any variation of #metoo that was trending on social media. You see, privately of course because I would NEVER say something like this publicly, my opinion was that these women should have said something sooner. As I watched more and more women in Hollywood come out and tell their stories, all I could think was “WHY didn’t you say something sooner? Look how many other women you could have saved from this fate if you had just said something before you made yourself rich and famous first.” I know, I know…it’s victim shaming in the worst form, and I hate myself too, but I seriously thought “How selfish could you possibly be? You KNOW that this creep is this way, but you accepted it so you could make your millions, and now that you’ve done that, NOW you’ll speak out against them. How do you feel knowing you could have started this ball rolling YEARS ago? You could have stopped it from happening to all of these other people!”

I watched as #metoo took over social media and thought “There is no fucking way this is happening this often. There’s just no way.” How absolutely fucking naive of me.

I have ALWAYS prided myself on being able to take care of my own shit. I am independent as hell, and nobody is going to put me in a position where I am not in control of my own shit. Could I have possibly been more wrong?!

For better or worse, I seem to be someone who people feel comfortable talking to about anything. I’d blame it on being a Pisces, but I know some Pisceans who are complete uncaring assholes, so whatever. My point is people tell me shit. They tell me things that they wouldn’t say to other people because somehow they know I’m not going to tell anyone else, or judge them, and somehow they know I’m going to do everything I possibly can to help them get their shit together or feel better about their situation. Whether it needs to be done with actual advice, conversations that other people would deem “inappropriate”, a conversation that is nothing but memes sent back and forth, or just someone to listen and not say a thing, I’m generally your person.

A while back, someone I know reached out. They needed someone, and as it often goes, I was the someone. I listened, memed, made them feel better, and by the time the conversation was over, I was completely drained, but they were doing better so whatev…my job was done. I actually thought nothing more of it.

A few months ago this person sent me a text that was CLEARLY meant for someone else. I ignored it, deleted it, laughed it off, and went about my business. I’ve sent texts to the wrong person before; everyone has.

Cut to a time really not all that long ago. I got a message from this person who I haven’t heard from in months. No biggie. I often go great lengths of time between talking to some people. I figured they needed to talk, and by talk, I mean text/meme/anything that didn’t ACTUALLY involve speaking on the phone. What actually happened was the most vile string of messages I have EVER been sent from anyone ever.

Oh it started out innocently enough, telling me I was beautiful, telling me that they just don’t understand why I don’t have someone who cares for me. That’s not anything out of the ordinary. Lots of people say things like that to me. Actually, back up. Most people say a variation of “You’re fucking awesome and I just don’t understand how you’re not dating/married.”  Most people don’t use the word beautiful. Most people lie and say hot or gorgeous. (I say they lie, because I just simply don’t see it. Maybe they just need their eyes examined.) Beautiful isn’t something that is used very often, and beautiful shakes me to my fucking core, so beautiful REALLY threw me off, but not for long. I responded with some variation of my usual “Between drama with my kid, 2 jobs and 2 different volunteer organizations, I simply don’t have time for the bullshit. When I find someone who WANTS to be part of my life, instead of someone who I have to beg to be part of my life, maybe then I’ll have someone who ‘cares’ about me.” Actually, I think my exact words this time were “I don’t have any patience for the bullshit.” Then I fell asleep thinking the conversation was over.

I woke up the next morning to the usual myriad of missed notifications on my phone. I checked them as I was walking to the bathroom, running late as usual. That’s when I opened the unread messages and saw that the innocent conversation that had started the night before had turned unacceptably sinister as I was sleeping. Messages hinting at things this person would like to do with me, followed by them questioning the appropriateness of the things they were sending, followed by additional messages that were even worse than the ones just barely sent.

These are messages that leave me with the realization that I will NEVER fucking be in a room anywhere with this person again, alone or otherwise. They are messages that will have me avoiding any function where I might run in to this person again like the damn plague, and that REALLY pisses me off, because this is a group of people I like to be around. They are messages that make me question my status as that bad ass who can take care of herself in any situation. They shake my already nearly non-existent trust in other people, and they make me despise the word beautiful. They make me insanely relieved that I can block numbers from calling or messaging my phone. They make me dread any time I am asked to come out of my office at work, because I never know who will be waiting to talk to me when I leave it.

Mostly though, these messages make me realize just what an asshole I was to even think that if these #metoo women had said something sooner, they could have prevented so many other #metoo stories, because calling these fucking predators out on their bullshit is not an easy task. Whether they waited 20 seconds or 20 years to say something, to do something about it, they deserve nothing less than our encouragement and full support.

I’m fortunate that my #metoo story didn’t involve anything physical. The old me would say this person is actually fortunate that it didn’t escalate to anything physical, because I would have caused some serious damage to them. Truthfully, I’m the lucky one though, because I probably would have frozen and shut down mentally in a physical confrontation just like I did reading about it. I thought I was strong. I thought I was a total bad ass. I thought I could handle anything life threw at me, but I was wrong. I was wrong because those stupid words on my phone fucked me up more than anything else life has ever thrown at me, and that’s a lot, because life has been a giant dick to me, and right this very second, I’m questioning whether or not I’ll ever recover from that.

That’s oddly specific

That’s oddly specific

Memory lane…sometimes it’s my favorite.

I was perusing the Facebook memories again today and came across a picture I posted back when my man-child was a cute, easier to manhandle when he was being an assholesomewhat well-behaved child, sitting on a recliner at my grandma’s house with my nephew on his lap. This of course was back before he started smoking, chewing, talking like an uneducated hick, and sporting the most ridiculous mullet in the history of forever, all in the name of being cool. He was 10, and life was a WHOLE lot easier.

About 2 weeks before this picture was taken, I had asked him to clean his room and all of the sudden he was walking like an old man, groaning that he had a migraine, doubled over in fake pain, and for good measure, because his friend at school just got 2 days off for strep throat, it hurt SOOOOO bad to swallow. It was uncanny how it all hit him before I even got the word “room” out of my mouth!

I let this charade go on for a couple of hours, because it was HILARIOUS, and then we loaded up and headed to Urgent Care. We had to go, because even if he was faking, there’s always that ever so slight chance that he isn’t, and even at 10 years old, he was apparently well versed in how much worse symptoms of a man cold are than the exact same illness in a woman. That, and because if he wasn’t faking it, the next day would bring an ER co-pay instead of the insanely inexpensive Urgent Care co-pay.

When we checked in to Urgent Care, he had that nurse wrapped around his finger. She asked if he needed a wheelchair, gave him a popsicle from the freezer, and offered to get him an ice pack if it would help his throat feel better. The entire time, I was thinking “you really are so sweet,” while also simultaneously thinking “I can’t believe you’re falling for this!” She apologized profusely for having to gag him with that giant cotton swab for the strep test, and then checked to make sure he was warm enough before leaving the room. Really, she was STELLAR at her job.

When the PA came in the room, he was every bit as nice as the nurse, checking glands, and giving the boy a thorough “does it hurt here, how about here, what about here” look over. Finally he asked “Can you tell me exactly where it hurts?”

“Right by my uvula,” said the kid, with the most deadpan expression I have ever seen on his face.

The PA blinked, took a split second to compose himself and said “That is very specific,” to which my kid responded “Well you asked exactly where it hurts.”

After a few more seconds to compose himself, he informed my kid that the strep test was in fact negative, and he would like to do a flu test and possibly a blood draw to check for mono before sending him home. When he looked at me to verify that it would be OK to proceed, I SWEAR he winked at me. Why? Well that would be because he was the PA who administered the flu test to my kid just 9 months prior to this, and he remembered just how much my kid enjoyed that.

The recovery rate after hearing the words flu test and blood draw was miraculous. He sat up straight, quit talking like he was on his death-bed, looked at the PA and asked him if he thought that maybe it was just a virus and he would feel better if he got some rest, drank lots of Gatorade, and took it easy for the weekend.

“Yes,” said the PA before adding “and clean your room.”

That was the best $30 I ever spent in my entire life.



I love/hate tinder. It is THE most stupid thing that from time to time I am COMPLETELY addicted to. Maybe the swiping is therapeutic. The matching is the best thing in the world for one’s self-esteem. Overall though, it’s a complete joke. That’s not to say it doesn’t work for some people. I mean, I did see a car parked at a reception just this summer that said “Tinder to Temple” in cutesy chalk writing on the windows, (insert eye roll here) so clearly tinder has its purposes.

Here’s my question though: are there unwritten tinder etiquette rules somewhere? I mean, everyone has some. For instance: STOP using pictures of your children as your tinder pictures, try checking your grammar and spelling once in a while, don’t post a bio made up entirely of emojis, and if you have a dog in your picture and we match, I’m going to want to meet the dog.

What about once you match though? Can we assume that most of us are adults and can’t always respond to a message INSTANTLY because we’re probably at work or doing some other adulty thing? Why do I say this? Well, that’d be because I had that ego boosting match moment last week, and actually messaged back and forth with the dude a few times. He said something semi witty, I responded a little while later. From the time stamp on it, I could tell he responded immediately, but I have a job and can’t be constantly attached to my phone so there would usually always be some time passing between messages. Well, that was until I went home and opened tinder, checked my matches, and *poof* dude was gone. No loss…well to me anyway. I didn’t think anything of it until I checked my messages on Facebook to see the list of grievances from Mr. narcissistic disappearing tinder match. WHO DOES THIS?! The dude literally took the time to find me on Facebook and send me a message telling me why he had to un match. I mean, the list of grievances was a list of the times it took me to respond to messages and some bullshit about how if I can’t take it seriously, I shouldn’t be on tinder in the first place. Well….one of us shouldn’t be on tinder buddy, but it’s not who you think it is. #blocked They say good things come to those who wait, and patience is indeed not only a virtue, but should definitely also be tinder etiquette.

As for the other tinder etiquette question/dilemma. *asking for a friend* What in the hell is one supposed to do when you’re mindlessly swiping through tinder and see one of your friends? Are you obligated to swipe right? Is it weird AF if you match when you do? IF you match with your friend, are you allowed to ask why in the hell they didn’t just ask you out in the first place? I mean, you’re already friends after all. Ok, I’m not really asking for a friend, obviously. Maybe the correct tinder etiquette here is simply close the app and open it again later so you don’t have to swipe either left or right on said person. That’s what I’m doing, and I should probably just consider it a healthy dose of karma for using tinder mostly because I like to make fun of some of the profiles I come across with my friends.  Speaking of those tinder profiles that make me think WTF, here’s the latest round some slightly sweet, kind of notable, and just plain weird tinder profiles I’ve had the pleasure of swiping (mostly left) on.

  • My dream girl has all of her teeth and hates rattlesnakes. I’m an awful person probably raised by wolves or turtles.
  • Looking to make babies since I have none. Getting old quick. (he’s 30 btw)
  • Well I’m a easy going man always with the fear of God in everything I do I just joined this site some hours now so I really don’t know what’s up on here lol I’ve been single for almost 4 years now and was married  for good 18 years but she cheated on me and got pregnant for another man although I learnt my lesson already but I believe all woman are not the same so that’s why I just wanna give like another trial and see how it goes Wanna know more feel free to ask me. (Holy mother forking shirtballs…thanks The Good Place for that…how about some punctuation?! AND maybe a little less over sharing? Just because you have 500 words doesn’t mean you need to use them all to tell everyone what kind of shit show sent you to tinder!)
  • If you don’t believe the Carlton is one of the greatest moves of the 20th century, please swipe left. Intentionally tries to match with people who have mutual friends in order to awkwardly pretend we haven’t Facebook stalked one another. (The Carlton IS amazing, but to go beyond Facebook stalking, if we have mutual friends, I’m going to wonder which one of us is the weirdo that they don’t want to set us up with…and then I’m going to assume it’s me, not you, because well…I am, and you can thank your friends for helping you dodge a bullet. 😉 )
  • I’m judging your grammar and spelling in these 500 characters. (ME TOO! I feel like at the very least we could be sarcastically bitchy friends. Can you just be the Jack to my Karen?!)
  • I am looking for someone I am attracted to physically and who interests me as a person. (Thank you captain obvious! Aren’t we all?)
  • I’m not attracted to laziness or psychopathic women. (Something tells me that at least one psychopathic woman snuck in there and that’s why you need to make this declaration.)
  • Seeking to be the guy that ruins your lipstick, not your mascara. (Fair enough, but you can’t break my heart if I don’t have one, and my mascara is waterproof.)