Tag Archives: dating

Maybe she’s just not into you

4 Aug

It’s an age old story.

Boy meets girl.  Boy falls in love with girl.  Girl isn’t all that interested.  Girl wants to have a baby and gets artificially inseminated.  Boy decides he wants to raise child as his own.  Girl says no.  Boy says he loves girl.  Girl tells him they’re just friends.  Boy wants the kid to call him daddy.  Girl decides to move to Chicago to get away from boy and start a new life.  Boy decides he wants to quit his job and move to Chicago to be with his “new family.”  Girl tells him under no circumstances will they ever be a family because she doesn’t like him that way.  Boy decides she doesn’t know what she’s talking about and begins updating his resume.

What could possibly go wrong?

This is what happens when you drunk Tinder

28 Apr

Last year in an effort to continue with my streak of making bad decisions, I allowed myself to be peer pressured into joining Tinder.  Yes, my friends, I found myself in the vortex of swiping left and right.  It’s amazing how you can spend an entire Friday night sitting on the couch, binge watching the first season of the X-files, and eating your way to the bottom of a Doritos bag (the big one) while you exercise your index finger by swiping left or right in hopes of finding Prince Charming.

Let me save you the agony: Prince Charming isn’t on Tinder.  And if he is, he’s just looking to touch your cervix.

For those of you who are happily involved in a monogamous relationships, those of you who fear online dating, or for the 4 of you who live under a rock let me explain how this works.

  1. Download the Tinder app
  2. Connect it to your Facebook profile
  3. Write a little summary about yourself and what you’re looking for.  Include that you have zero interest in hook ups, one night stands, kinky fetishes, threesomes, and/or dating someone who has rage issues
  4. Upload some cute pictures of yourself
  5. Choose the age range of your target matches
  6. Choose the distance you’re willing to travel in hopes of meeting your match
  7. Start searching!!
  8. Scroll through zillions of profiles, swiping left for “oh god, my eyes can never unsee that,” or right for “oh god, let’s make a baby.”
  9. Hope that the dude you swiped right on also swipes right and BING you have a connection!  Now you can communicate in the safety of the app

It is a total time suck.  No joke, you literally can just spend hours swiping left and right.  It’s a bit like time traveling – you look at the time that’s gone by and wonder how three hours could have possibly gone by and why you’re still single.

There came a time during my Tinder adventures when I was home alone, and drunk (shocking, I know), that I was pissed that I wasn’t getting enough matches.  My solution? Widen the age range to 21-60 and just swipe right.  Man did that make me feel popular!  The sweet, sweet feeling of getting match after match was euphoric – kind of like what it must feel like after completing a marathon or reaching the top of Everest, only with far less exertion and zero requirement of physical fitness.

The next morning when I woke up I saw the horrors that were in my inbox.  A hangover is bad.  A hangover when you have to deal with Quasi Modo sending you dirty messages via an online dating app is even worse.  It took me hours to delete all those dudes from the app.

There was one, however, who I did write back too.  He was young.  VERY young, too young for me.  Yes, I’ve hit Cougar age, no I’m not ready to date or sleep with someone who could be mistaken for my son (except Zac Efron, I’d get up all over him and his hot body and I don’t care if someone thought I was his grandmother.  I’d totally dirty touch him).  So this guy was like 7 years old, but I gotta give him credit where credit is due.  When you see what he wrote, you’re gonna want to meet him just so you could say, “cool move, bro,” and then high five him.

Check it out…(it’s okay, you won’t get fired for clicking the link)

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Catherinette: Cock Blocker Extraordinaire!

1 Jul

Cock blockers. Let’s talk about them. How much we hate them. Remember going to a bar in college, making nice to some hot cutie, knowing that your privates were gonna rub up all against them, and then your dreams being shattered by a friend who would ruin it all? Yeah. Me too. 

And remember the time when your friend who had cock blocked you had made a romantic connection and you decided it was time for pay back and you went ahead and became that cock blocker? Yeah. Me too. 

I’ll do you one better. Remember the time when my secret boyfriend told me he was going to the beach and I told him not to get pregnant? Yeah. So does he. Apparently it’s been on his mind so much that he decided not to go to the beach. Why? Because he said I had jinxed him. 

Me: You’re welcome! Or I’m sorry. 

Him: You’re awful. 

Me: ANY TIME!

Him: No. Not any time. 

I’ve decided to randomly stop by his desk and remind him to make smart choices. Thereby ensuring no one night stands for him. 

I WIN!!

Too. Many. Feelings.

11 Apr

There is a limit to how many feelings a dude should have, and that limit is four: hunger, thirst, love, and happiness.  That’s it.  That’s about all I can tolerate.  Dating a dude like this guy, is way too much…

http://www.hulu.com/watch/461010

No shit, I dated a guy like this.  At least twice.

My friends have often joked that I should have been born a dude – I have a very low tolerance for too many feelings in a relationship.  Yes, I have feelings.  No, I don’t want to talk about them.  Feelings are meant to be felt, repressed, and or eaten.  They’re not meant to wallow in, or talk about.  Nothing makes me roll my eyes faster than having some dude want to sit down and talk about his feelings.

3D thought it was necessary to tell me everyday how much he liked me BUT in return he demanded that I do the same for him.  Every. God. Damned. Day. That’s way too much.  You can’t force that kind of shit.  For reals, yo.

And then there was Hairy McBacksweat.  Jesus Christ, I swear to God that guy had more feelings than all my girlfriends combined.  When we broke up, he cornered all my friends and asked them to talk it out with him – because he needed closure.  Who knew that closure meant replaying every single instant of a relationship with all of your ex-girlfriends besties.  That’s a lot of closure.

In the end, the lesson I’ve learned is that if the dude has too many feelings, we’re better off cross stitching and watching reruns of “Sex and the City” than dating one another.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to eat my feelings about still being single while I analyze what the hell is wrong with me.

Protected: The Same Old Story

11 Feb

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What Did You Have in Mind?

24 Aug

“I can do this,” I thought to myself as I was driving over to his house. “It’s nothing. We’ll just do it and then it’ll be over and it means nothing.  I can do this.”  Then I found myself there and my thoughts turned to, “this is going to end badly.”  The talk about feelings and “what are we doing” and “why are you with me” would inevitably come up.  I would have to tell him it was just a casual thing and that we’re both adults capable of this type of thing. 

About 2 months before, I received an email from him.  Against my better judgement, I responded – and that’s how it all began.  “He’s worming,” Foxy had said to me.  “I know that,” I responded and told her that it was nothing.

The emails became more frequent, and soon there were text messages too.  It eventually led to plans to go to the movies.  A month ago I walked into his house and saw him for the first time in almost a year.  I have never felt nerves like that before.  My heart was beating so fast, and I could have sworn that my knees were going to buckle.  “What the hell am I doing here?” kept going through my mind.  And then…we were fine.  We fell back into talking with one another like we once did.  It was light conversation, we didn’t talk about family, we didn’t talk about the past.  It was fine, we were going to be fine.

On the way home after the movie I debated whether/not I was going to go inside his house.  I knew that if I walked in his front door that I would end up in his bedroom.  We pulled into the driveway, and I made the decision to go.  “Are you sure,” he asked me.  I was sure.  I got in my car and drove away.  And then the text messages started again.

My resolve melted.  A week later I was in his house again, and this time I did end up in his bedroom.  It was easy at first.  I would see him for a few hours, we’d end up in his room, and then I would leave.  He would tell me I could stay, and I’d tell him that I should go.  We’d email about the next time we’d see each other again, and that was that.

I kept it to myself so as not to hear my friends lecture me on what I knew was a mistake.  After all, it wouldn’t last long.  Just a few times, and then it would end just as quickly as it began and he would be a memory again.  Claude knew, and then I told Boom Boom.   “Are you insane??” she said.  “I have a bad feeling about this.”  Just like I imagined I would, I received the lecture on this awful mistake that I was making.  “It’s nothing. It’s just nothing,” I tried convincing her.  “You still like him,” she said.  “No!” I protested, I said it was just casual, that it was nothing, that I could just walk away when I wanted. “Then walk away,” she told me.  “But the sex is so good,” I retorted.

He seemed so different.  That insecure, needy guy was gone.  There was not talk about feelings, there were no questions about whether or not I was seeing anyone else, or if Un-boyfriend was still in the picture.  I kept going back, and as I did, I realized that it wasn’t just sex anymore, that all of those feelings that I had once had for him were resurfacing.  I found myself wanting to make plans with him again, future plans with him.  This casual arrangement we had was suddenly not so casual.  This time, I felt like the tables were turned – it wasn’t him having all of these damned feelings, now it was me.

Last week, his grandmother died and he had to make plans to go out of state over the weekend for the funeral.  He came to see me on Tuesday, and he asked to see me again on Sunday.  He asked me to take the day off on Monday so we could spend more time together.  I agreed.  The next day I had an email from him telling me what a great time he’d had and how much he was looking forward to spending more time with me.  I was on cloud 9 – while this hadn’t been what I intended to happen, I was pleased it was going this way.

Then something started to change, I felt him starting to pull away from me.  There was a longer lag time between his responses, his interest had started to wane.  As it did, I could feel myself wanting to clasp onto him and not let him go.  I knew that things were different.  On Friday I told my boss that I no longer needed to have Monday off.  “Everything okay?” he asked.  “Yes,” I lied, “just a change of plans.”  A change in the plans that he made with me, and one in the imaginary plans that I was starting to make for us.

He did not come.  He sent me a text message on his way home asking me if it was okay if he just went home and crashed.  “Do what you need to do,” I responded.  Then he asked me if I was still free on Monday.  “What did you have in mind?”  That was at 8:00 last night and I haven’t heard from him since.

I knew this was a mistake when it began and I knew that it would end badly, but I didn’t think that it would hurt quite like this.  I feel so foolish right now for having allowed myself to do this.  I feel so rejected.  Deep down inside I believed that we still have a chance.  A chance to remedy everything that took place last year.  A chance for some kind of future together.

Above all things, I wish that he still loved me.  That he wanted to be with me.  That he thought about me as I find myself thinking about him.  He does not love me anymore.  God only knows why I would even want this after everything that happened last year, but I did.  I do.  I can’t help it.  I wish I could.  I wish there was a switch I could just flip to make this all go away and not feel anything.  I’ll take numb over this. 

I just want to sit here and cry and tell myself that it will be okay.  I don’t need him.  I know this, I believe this.  But I want him.  I want him so badly.  I keep telling myself that when September comes and classes start and I’m traveling for work, that there will just be a dull pain left behind.  He will not call me, I will not call him.  Things will go back to normal, they will be like they were before we saw each other again.  I won’t spend my day wondering what he’s doing or when he will contact me.  Let it go back to the way it was before I saw him again.  Please just make this end. 

It’s really over now.

Please, I don’t want to hear the lectures.  I feel badly enough as it is.  Do with this as you will, but I don’t want to hear it right now.

The Stages Of Mourning A Relationship

24 Aug

Sometimes it’s nice to know that we are not alone when we’re dealing with a broken heart.  So, my dear friend (you know who you are), this one’s for you.

[originally posted on August 2, 2008]

It’s 3:00 PM and I’m still in my nightgown. I managed to stop crying about an hour ago, and even talked myself into taking a shower. Not just any shower, I actually shaved my legs. And what’s the point, really, as no one will be running their hands down them anymore. Less than 24 hours of being single and already I’m hating it. Stupid green grass on the other god damned side.

Mourning the loss of any relationship is difficult, but the different phases of mourning allow you to heal much faster. Let me take a minute to describe the different stages that you’ll have to get through:

Phase 1: Sobbing Uncontrollably into the Pillow He Once Slept On While Your Dreams For Your Future Slip Through Your Fingers. This is the stage when you have to double your intake of water. After all, all the tears that you’ll have streaming down your face can be pretty dehydrating. In between sobs, it’s required that you clutch the pillow, hoping to get a whiff of his scent. During this time, you’ll also question your actions and wonder if you were just a jack ass and should take it all back. You’ll probably cry yourself to sleep, have dreams of the 2 of you being together, and then start sobbing again when you wake up with the pillow in your arms and the realization that you’re alone and your mascara has probably stained the pillow he will ever use again.

Phase 2: Getting Dressed. This is one of the hardest phases of the mourning period. It actually requires that you find a reason to let go of the pillow, and get up out of bed. I know, it sounds utterly ridiculous. You may even think that you’ve found a reason-like the house is burning down-only to realize that it’s just not worth it to leg go of the pillow and stop the tears. When you are able to finally get up, though, the actual task of getting dressed can be quite traumatic. You’ll have to figure out what to wear that won’t remind you of being with him. If you end up picking his favorite t-shirt or the panties that used to drive him wild, you’ll have terrible flashbacks and end up back in stage 1. Only this time you’ll be holding the panties and the pillow in your hands.

Phase 3: Eating the World. Typically this is the sole purpose for getting up out of bed and getting dressed. During the first stage, you may find that you have completely lost your appetite and can’t possibly think of eating. I’m here to tell you that feeling will go away. In some cases, you may be one of the lucky ones that has food in the house. In the case that you do not, your best bet is to go with some fine food from McDonald’s or KFC. The grease will help speed the healing process-it really will. When you leave your house to get your food do not forget one of the most important staples: ice cream. It doesn’t matter what flavor you get, but you’ll need to eat at least a pint at a time. And none of this no fat or reduced fat shit. You need the fat and calories to help you. Really, you do. Here’s the tricky part with this stage, you can’t let it go on forever and ever, otherwise your body will go to crap. The purpose here is just to eat your feelings and numb your pain for 24-72 hours. That’s it, no more. As soon as you’re done with this stage, you can move into the next one.

Phase 4: Abusing Your Liver. Nothing numbs the pain and stops the crying like a good stiff drink. Spend time with your boys (Jack Daniels, Jose Cuervo, and/or Jim Bean) or pour yourself a peeptini. Just do what it takes to make you forget how happy you were when he would put his arms around you and kiss your neck and tell you he loved you and that everything was going to be okay and that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Be cautious! Too much abuse will lead you right back into Phase 1, and too many tears are bad for your skin. Being single can be painful enough, being single with too pink cheeks is even worse.

Phase 5: Beating the Dead Horse. This is the phase where you test your relationships with your friends and family. It’s at this point when you talk everything to death, including what it possibly could have meant when in week 3 he told you he thought you were beautiful and then took a sip of his water glass with his right hand instead of his left. Eventually you’ll become bored of telling the same story over and over, or else your friends will threaten to strangle you if you bring up his sweet nickname for you one more time.

As I’m in mourning for my dead in the water relationship, I feel it’s only right to enter into the next phase: eating the world. McDonald’s, and Ben & Jerry’s are all in my future. Who needs 3D when I have these fine gentlemen that can provide for me? There’s one problem with entering into this phase of mourning-it requires getting dressed, and I’m not sure that I’m ready for that step.