Tag Archives: dating

What’s app with that?

7 Nov

Oh, 3D.  It’s been almost 10 years since we met, and 9 years (ish) since we last knocked boots.  I haven’t seen him since I was still in my 30’s (which feels like a hundred years ago).  I moved out of state, out of the country, then back home.  He moved away to be closer to his family.  I have grown into who I am meant to be.*  He has a new career and looks after horses or something like that.  I don’t know.

Anyway, it’s clear that I left quite an impression on him.  Vangelina Jolie rocked his world. How do I know?  Because after all these years he keeps reaching out.  Emails, text messages, and most recently, What’s App.  Oh, he’s special. Most of the time I don’t bother responding.  Sometimes in a moment of weakness I engage and then regret it a few minutes later.  Kind of like when I decided to sleep with him on the sly and then ended up feeling like absolute shit [you can read about that here].  Okay, maybe not quite that bad.

It’s been about a year since the last time I responded to his message.  Instead, I save what he sends to me so I can share the messages with my friends and we can giggle about his horse teeth and how much he loved turkey subs.

Please note the string of random messages.  Like the random request to see if I’d like to “communicate”.  By “communicate” pretty sure he’s asking if I want him to touch my cervix with his peen.  No.  On both counts.  Oh, or maybe you like the most recent dream he had about me?

Some of my friends have asked me why I don’t block him and wish him good riddance.  Well, fine readers, if I did, then I’d miss out on the gems that he sends and the opportunity to use his messages as conversation starters when I’m out drinking with my girlfriends.  And maybe, just maybe a little bit, the slightest bit, maybe not so slight, it feels good to still be wanted.  After years of being single, it’s nice to know that there’s someone out there who still thinks of me.  It’s not someone I want to be with, but at least I know that I mean something to someone in “that” way.

 

*HAHA!  JK. I’m still an asshole and hate being an adult.  LOLS (and you have to say “lols” not “el oh el”)

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I have the perfect guy for you!

6 Nov

We singletons have heard that phrase a lot. We know that what it really means is: “you’re single, he’s single, and I’m sick of hearing about how single you both are so can’t you start dating so I can hear about how miserable you are about being in a relationship?”

It’s amazing how many people believe that they are certified match makers.  True match makers have a unique gift – they know each person well enough to identify who would and would not make a good partner.  They look beyond relationship status and sexual orientation. It’s about their core values, beliefs, interests, etc. What you want for your life, what you want in a partner.

And then there are the self professed match makers.  The ones who just happen to know  2 single people and decide to slap them both together.  Add an awkward happy hour which is the ruse to have you both meet one another.  The happy hour where every single person at the bar knows it’s a set up and you and the other person feel like your every move is being watched.  Probably because that’s what’s happening.  In fact, it could be less awkward if the 2 of you were on stage and you set up seats around you so everyone could watch while they nibbled on some bar snacks. VOILA!! Instant couple!

Last week one of my staff members mentioned that her boyfriend’s friend is single and that we’d both make the best couple!  We’re both single, we own our own homes, and we each have a pet!

Um…is this all at takes to build a relationship on, nowadays? Because maybe my standards have been pretty high.  I mean, maybe you don’t need to have any common interests or be attracted to each other.  And, fuck it, who cares if the other person is 20 years outside the top of your dating range.  I could date your grandpa!!  Don’t ever call me nana though.  I want a fancy name like Gigi.  None of that shit that makes me sound like I’m a real grandmother.  Because I’m too god damned young to be a grandmother.

Anyway, after telling me about what an amazing guy this is.  She goes on to tell me how he’s great with animals, and he’s traveled all over the US on the back of his Harley, and how he used to drive a hot air balloon.  (Wait.  Is that’s what you call it?  Driving a hot air balloon?  What do you call that?)  She then proceeds to mention there’s one thing I should know before we meet.  He’s 3 months sober and can’t be around any alcohol at all.  None.

So, yeah. That happened.

Maybe it’s me but I think it’s kind of not really smart to try to set up a recovering alcoholic with someone who takes a lot of pride in keeping her wine fridge stocked.  Am I right?

Besides, I’m coming to terms with being in a long term relationship with my sweatpants and remote control. Guess for now my perfect guy is going to continue to be Chris Hemsworth.

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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