Just a little effort please?

Just a little effort please?

After a few weeks of a friend posting screenshots of the real winners she’s found in the Tinder/Bumble universe to Instagram with what is becoming my favorite hashtag, #whyimsingle, I decided it was time to enable discovery on good old Tinder again. You know…for research purposes, and you guys, it has NOT disappointed.

First, there was a “You have a new match” notification on my phone, which I didn’t even bother looking at, because I was fairly positive it would be followed by an almost immediate unmatch, but I was wrong. It was followed by a message. Cool. Except let’s be honest. It was 2am, and I was just settling down after an epic girl’s night, and we had pedicure appointments in 12 hours and still needed to grab brunch before that, so I was not staying up to chat with some random dude. Also, if I’m being completely honest, I really wasn’t feeling this anyway, and the Tinder swiping was really just a way to pass some time. His “You up” message was met with “barely…2am is not my jam” to which he responded “Ok..I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

The next morning around 10, I had a message notification. “Come over to my house and cuddle. We can Netflix and chill. ;)”

My response: Sorry friend….this is a girl’s weekend and I already have plans.
Tinder dude: Just bail on brunch and come over.
Me: Brunch is the best meal of the entire week.
Tinder dude: Then skip the pedicures and come over.
Me: Lo siento amigo, girl’s days are sacred.
Tinder dude: well then….have fun I guess.

Skipping right on past the unimportant details of brunch, shopping, pedicures, and 3 hour drive home, at 10pm here come the messages again.
Tinder dude: you up
Me: Not for long. I have to be up again in 6 hours, and while I can still party like I’m in my 20’s, I don’t recover that way anymore.
Tinder dude: Come over for a little bit.
Me: Did you happen to notice how far away I am?
Tinder dude: What the hell?!
Me: Sorry…maybe next time I’m in town.
Tinder dude: What….you have to go back home to your husband during the week.
Me: Never had one of those….thanks for your confidence in me though.
Tinder dude: Your wife then?
Me: Again….thanks for the vote of confidence there, but no, there’s no wife either.

Four days later, Tinder dude starts the conversation up again with this little gem: Hey, come out here. You can stay with me.
Me: I have plans this weekend already.
Tinder dude: I bet I’m better than the plans you already have. Come out here. You can stay with me.
Me: If I happen to find some free time, you could perhaps meet me for brunch at Stratford Proper.
Tinder dude: I don’t really like the downtown area.
Me: Prohibition?
Tinder dude: Yeah, still too close to town.

You guys, Prohibition is like 8 miles in to the suburbs from downtown SLC, but ok.

Me: Well…why don’t you just meet me for coffee. How about Starbucks in Cottonwood Heights.
Tinder dude: I’d kinda rather stick around Sandy where I live.
Me: It’s like 8 miles from Sandy to Prohibiton, and 6 from Sandy to Cottonwood Heights. (Point of reference for my Sitka peeps….this is like someone saying “You know, I know you have 4 hours to kill before the ferry leaves, but I don’t really want to hike part of Harbor Mountain with you, because I live clear over by the post office… That 7 minute drive is just such a pain in the ass! Maybe if you weren’t so far out on HPR…)
Tinder dude: So….
Me: I just don’t think I’m going to have time for this…not this weekend…or ever really.
Tinder dude: Why is that?
Me: Do you really need me to break it all down for you? Or can I just tell you to maybe make a little effort next time. Just a little. Leave your 6 mile bubble, and see about taking a 10 minute drive for coffee instead of “Do you want to come over to my house and make out watch movies, but not really watch movies?” No judgement if you want to just Netflix and chill. None whatsoever. But, maybe tell a girl she’s pretty and at least offer to buy her a drink before you try to get her naked. I’m guessing that’ll work a little better for you.
Tinder dude: Nobody has ever talked to me like that. Not once in 49 years.
Me: Consider this a long overdue public service announcement then. Best of luck in your future swiping.

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Worst Job Interview Ever…

Worst Job Interview Ever…

If you’re not following me on Twitter, I can’t say that I blame you. It’s mostly shares from Instagram and retweets of whatever Ben Winslow tweets during the Utah legislative session. Seriously, it’s mostly politics. I feel bad for my 97 followers, but some of those followers are decent members of Utah’s legislature and I might fan girl just a little bit when they retweet me. Anyway…if you’re not following me on twitter though, you missed this gem.

At this point, dating just seems like a horrible interview for a job that ends with 50% of people paying thousands of dollars to quit. Don’t believe me? Drive by the homes of my family attorney friends. They didn’t buy those gorgeous houses on the backs of happy marriages.

About the horrible interview….let me tell you what the last few weeks have been like for me in social media world.

Me: Accepts random friend request, because why not…it can always be undone later, and we do have friends in common. May as well live a little.

Also me: Repeats this process 10 times over the course of 4 days.

Still also me: Cringes at the barrage of “Hi pretty,” “Hello Beautiful,” and “What up sexxxxxy” that slide in to my messages. Um….My name is very clearly posted on facebook. You clicked it to add me as a friend. Maybe try using it?? BUT, I won’t hold the pretty, beautiful, or sexxxxxy thing against you, because that profile picture is a great one thanks to my very amazing photographer, and equally amazing hair and makeup artist.

Again me: Receiving messages with lines of questioning that read like a mail order bride interview.
Do you like to cook?
Do you cook well?
How do you feel about cleaning?
What kind of food would you say is your favorite?
Are you a Christian?
Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs?
Do you have children?
Would you be open to having more?
How did you vote in the 2016 Presidential Election?
Do you have anything concerning in your family medical history?
Would you consider selling your house and moving?
What marketable skills do you have that would allow you to relocate and remain successful?
Are you completely committed to the political involvement, or could you do something a little more lady like to pass your time?
Have you been with more or less than 2 men?

I shit you not. My eyes rolled SO hard back in to my head, and NOT in a good way. I’ve never blocked people so fast in my entire life. Seriously?! WHO T. F. ASKS QUESTIONS LIKE THIS TO SOMEONE THEY HAVE NEVER MET?! And also….Will I sell my house and move to God knows where for someone I don’t even know? Please…I can’t even sell my house, but if I could, I’d go as far as 3 hours, buy a condo, and live with my best friend, because his kids love me, and both of our lives would be a hell of a lot more fun that way.

I suppose I should just be grateful that the creepy factor showed up in Facebook messaging, instead of real life situations that would have had me faking an emergency or ordering an angel shot from a lifesaving bartender, because holy shit…dating just seriously feels like a painfully awkward job interview at this point.

Dating advice from the serial single…OR…You don’t turn down a date to a football game.

Dating advice from the serial single…OR…You don’t turn down a date to a football game.

I had quite the text message exchange with a friend who was looking for some dating advice today. It went a little like this:

Friend: Hey, I met this guy. He seems pretty cool and he wants me to go to a football game with him this weekend.
Me: Not that it matters, but met him, met him or Tinder met him?
Friend: Tinder met him.
Me: Tell me more about the football game?
Friend: It’s the one in Salt Lake.
Me: Ahh…So he wants to take you to the Utes game at Rice Eccles tomorrow?
Friend: Yeah. That’s the one. He said he has tickets on like the 50 yard line. Are those good? I just don’t know if I WANT to go to the football game.
Me: *in complete disbelief of that luck* Where exactly on the 50 yard line?
Friend: Like the 5th row or something.
Me: 5th row down from the top, or up from the field?
Friend: Up from the field. Why, are those good tickets?
Me: Why exactly do you not want to go to the game?
Friend: I just don’t know if I like him enough to spend the time tailgating and at the game with him.
Me: What about him do you not like enough to spend that kind of time with him?
Friend: Well….he’s really fun to talk to, and I know it sounds shallow, but I don’t really think he’s all that cute.
Me: As shallow as it sounds, with tickets like that at Rice Eccles, he doesn’t have to be. Besides, you swiped right, and didn’t un-match with him, so there’s that.
Friend: I don’t know why I ask you for dating advice.
Me: Either do I. Go to the game.
Friend: What if I REALLY can’t stand him after the tailgating? Can I just leave then?
Me: No. But you can change in to purple and cheer for UW, thank him for the freaking amazing ticket to the game, and tell him you have a friend with much better taste if he needs someone to go to the USC or Oregon games with him.
Friend: You suck.
Me: Not for free 😉
Friend: I should have known you’d say that. I’ll snap you from the game.

This is why you don’t ask your smart ass single friend for dating advice. Or maybe any advice really….

Confessions

Confessions

These are my confessions, just when I thought I said all I can say…. Just kidding…I’m not Usher, and I have no chick on the side that’s got one on the way, but I do have some random confessions from the past few weeks nonetheless.

  • A couple of weeks ago, I had THE best weekend at a music festival with one of my favorite humans. Coming back to the reality where I don’t get to hang out with this guy every day, live in a hotel, eat pho, go to kick ass concerts, and other unmentionables was mother f-wording brutal. My mental health took one hell of a hit when I had to return to being an adult.
  • After a week of adulting bullshit, I hit a local bar with one of my very oldest friends. She wanted to go, I didn’t want to be around people that I know, but I shut that anxiety ridden portion up with a quick shot of tequila.
  • This weekend was the first time in my entire life that I didn’t have to pay for any of my drinks at a bar, and not just because my friends were paying this time. Total strangers paid for most of my drinks. I had to turn drinks down because I was the one driving. So, this is what it’s like for pretty girls. Not a bad feeling. I’m glad I could be an imposter for the night…although I could have lived without the “I just did a shot with the chick from X94” declaration…
  • One such stranger decided to hang out with us all night. I’m 100% unsure on the etiquette surrounding someone who drops $5 on a vodka soda for you because he’s trying to get in your friend’s pants, so we just chilled with the dude and some other random people until last call.
  • I felt ZERO shame when I wouldn’t let vodka soda dude physically drag me out on the dance floor, listened to his comments about how surprisingly strong I was, and then left him in the dust when the DJ dropped the Cupid Shuffle. C’mon….it’s like the Macarena…one doesn’t just stand around when that’s playing. You get your ass to the dance floor.
  • Met some guys from Texas….momentairly broke their hearts when I asked how they manage to live in Utah without Whataburger. Made up for it by offering to make fun of their enemies on the air.
  • Refrained from laughing when vodka soda guy tried to get me to drink more so he could take my friend and me home. Yeah….sorry friend. My liver is a champion, and 4 drinks over 4 hours isn’t leaving me stranded in a bar. Did you notice how I kept funneling your drinks to my BFF? It was my night to be the responsible one, even if those goosebumps were proof that my body betrayed me when you decided you were going to grab my ass and pull my hair.
  • Decided I felt a little too old and had an equally old friend play Jr. High with me. Good news…the boy I had her talk to for me is single. Bad news….in this stupid backwards state, “Do you want to grab a drink with me” apparently means “I love you and we should get married tonight,” and not the “hey, we should just get a drink and catch up” that it means in the rest of the civilized world, so yeah….that probably won’t go anywhere, but it was fun to be 14 years old again for a minute.
  • Met (OK….matched on Tinder, whatever) a ridiculously cool guy and had some pretty amazing conversations with him for about 4 days. The guy challenged me mentally. That’s a difficult task. He also knew the damn difference between your and you’re, which is apparently a lost art. He told me he hated me for where I live, so that’s where that went. (Don’t get pissed at him….It’s a valid concern!)
  • A freaking meme I saw on Facebook made me realize I tripped in to some feelings. That hit me like a ton of damn bricks. I’m still not sure how I feel about that. I keep trying to brush them off, but they’re like glitter and they get freaking everywhere. Wanna know what it said? Here it is: “I have to be honest with you. I think about you a lot. All the time actually. In the morning, at night, in the middle of the day. It’s you. It’s just always you.” Shit…. Also, it’s not about the recent Tinder guy. Yeah, I know I live in Utah, but unlike the vast majority of the state, I am perfectly capable of having coffee with a guy without thinking that means we’re now in a committed relationship.
  • The kid is back home. I have no idea how long it will last, but I just about lost my shit when I told him to take the trash out and he told me “I worked 13 hours today, and I don’t need your attitude.” Um….excuse me, but last I checked, this was my house, and for the record, I worked 16 hours, so take the effing trash out and pick your pants up off the kitchen floor. (One of us may die, and my life insurance policy is worth more, so if I come up missing, y’all know what happened. Joke’s on him though; he’s not listed as the beneficiary!)
  • Did you notice the kid told me he worked 13 hours? Yeah….one of my friends took pity on him again. I hope he doesn’t mess this one up. I’m running out of local friends; especially ones that might take pity on the lost soul that is my kid…
  • I managed to make it 10 days without washing my hair. I didn’t need dry shampoo at all. I only washed it on Sunday morning because I smelled like the bar. I still am not certain whether it was the shitty mental health, or the 16 hour days at work that made the task so daunting. I’m also 100% unclear whether I should be impressed that I didn’t need to wash the green mess for that long, or if should be a little concerned that I was OK waiting that long to wash it…
Have you tried online dating?

Have you tried online dating?

“You’re such a nice girl, and so involved in the community. It’s not like you’re sitting at home hiding from the boys. I don’t know why someone hasn’t just snatched you up yet. Have you tried online dating?”

Ahh….married people….don’t you just love them? No, I’m not just sitting at home hiding from the boys, but given what seems to be out there, I might be better off that way. Yes, I’m sure I’m not a lesbian too. Yes, it’s because I like boys far too much, but it’s also because I don’t really see the need to be shot down by two genders. As to the question of “have you tried online dating?” Holy shit, why didn’t I think of that?! Of course I’ve tried online dating. I mean I haven’t for a while, but I can tell you, I am THE BEST at getting friend-zoned when it comes to online dating.  I mean, I have no complaints about that; these guys are some of the coolest people I know. Still, after my sweet married friend who simply can’t believe how I’m still single asked the question, I had to take a look again today. May I present to you the viable “options” in online dating today…
PhotoGrid_1529967496640.jpgThanks, but no thanks. I think I’d rather submit my application to become a nun…. Ok, not really on that whole “get thee to a nunnery” bit. I’m gonna take a hard pass on celibacy, but in the infamous words of Ms. Cher Horowitz, “You see how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet.”

 

So that happened…

So that happened…

I think I already need a new, new dermatologist. Why? Because skin cancer is a big deal, and when one starts going through risk factors, I light them up like a Christmas tree.

  • Fair skin that burns easily, check
  • Tanning bed use, particularly before the age of 30, check
  • Blue eyes, check
  • Freckles and moles, check
  • History of sun burns early in life, Check, check, checkity check.

But why the new, new dermatologist? Well, I’m not all that fond of the ONLY local option, so I’ve mostly relied on self checks, and having my family practice doctor remove any concerning spots, but I really need some help from an actual professional in the form of some annual mole mapping to more effectively check for any changes that could be concerning. I mean, I’m a little bit flexible, but I still can’t see my back well enough to be confident that there’s nothing serious going on back there, and there’s nobody looking at my back on the regular for me.

I asked some friends for recommendations on who they go to, did some research, and found a practice that is covered by my insurance, AND schedules Saturday office hours once a month so I don’t have to take time off work. #winning Here’s where it gets awkward though.

A few weeks ago, I was having drinks with this guy out of town. He was cool, but I was heading out with some friends later, so I declined his invitation to go back to his place. I’m still not sure if that had more to do with the fact I was going out with friends, or if it was because 2 days before that, I got low key slut shamed (for absolutely no reason, btw) by some arrogant asshole who poses as a friend, but the fact of the matter, remains that I didn’t go home with the guy.

Monday I got the calendar reminder of my appointment this Saturday morning, with the name of the doctor I’m seeing. You know where this is going…I looked him up…he’s the guy from the bar…the one I didn’t go home with. The one I probably should have gone home with, because now, if I don’t cancel my appointment and find a new, new dermatologist, only one of us is getting naked, nobody is going to enjoy it, and I’m going to have to pay for it.

 

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley: an experiment in online dating.

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley: an experiment in online dating.

A while ago (ok, it was on my birthday this year), I received a text that said “You should reward and pamper yourself. Spend the whole day in bed. You don’t look like you’re 38 at all, at most 34. Go find a boyfriend. Maybe try online dating. Don’t just immerse yourself earning money.” (Hey…immerse myself in earning money is a bit harsh. I’m just doing what it takes to pay the bills, and unfortunately this means working all the damn time, so there’s that.) Why though? This was in response to me telling this person that I was celebrating my birthday by working, just like any normal Friday, because I’m not 12 and I’d rather not acknowledge the fact that I’m old. That spending the whole day in bed did sound appealing though!

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I can’t even count the number of times I’ve heard some variation of “have you ever considered online dating,” or “maybe you need to lower your standards a little bit,” or “maybe if you looked outside of the area with one of those apps you’d have better luck.” Thanks…I get it, but you know what? I’m not Jerry Maguire, and I don’t REALLY need anyone to complete me. I’ve been single for a while now. It’s working out pretty well. Like…I think I’m the one, although it wouldn’t be all bad to have someone to join in on that whole spend the whole day (or 20 minutes or so on the regular) in bed advice. 😉 😉

What she didn’t know though, was I was already trying online dating. I mean, not for finding a boyfriend, because the thought of actively trying to do that is overwhelmingly daunting. I mean, last time someone asked me what I was looking for in a relationship, I told them “Someone I’m comfortable enough around that the relationship happens before I realize I’m in one. It’s best if I don’t realize I tripped in to some feelings until it’s too late to just brush that shit off.” They slapped me, I laughed, and that was the end of it. Still, I was already messing around with online dating simply so I could answer the question “What are you looking for here” with “TBH, I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley,” and so began a whole slew of instant unmatches, and some rather fantastic responses.

  • You’re worth a Geo Metro at best.
  • What if I just give you my Bentley?
  • You realize that’s like a quarter of a million for a car don’t you?
  • Wanna leak a sex tape with me? It worked for Kim Kardashian.
  • How about unlimited rides on my disco stick instead? (Throwing down the Lady Gaga reference…good one.)
  • I hope you’re not serious, because there’s no world where you or any chick is worth a Bentley!
  • What color would you like, and are you comfortable “working it off” at the going rate? 😉 😉
  • I named my d!ck “Bentley” just for you. (This came several times, along with a shit ton of unsolicited pictures.)

One of my very personal favorites though: “I’m gonna need to see a topless picture first.” Yeah…let me get right on that….

I’m just looking for someone to buy me a Bentley. I’m really not, but I wouldn’t turn one down either, provided it came with the insurance prepaid too, and a new house to park it at. I mean, I’m not looking for someone to “complete me” but I’d sell my soul if the price was right…