Tinder Nightmares Continue
I think my co-blogger and I will be re-vamping, maybe switching up platforms, and overall just coming up with a new strategy that includes, I don't know, actually posting blogs. We're both in career upheaval - him swimming in the waters of post grad life (*cough* unemployment *cough*) and me working a super subpar job that sucks my life out like a vampire. BUT not a sexy vampire or even one that you would say, meh, I'm getting immortality, right? NO! A vampire of the sorts that only wants to use you and kill you.
Ah, well...at least I have some things going. Friendship, maybe? Well, yes, can't complain there. While I may be arduously pinning over my squad from junior/senior year, I do have a very reliable crew I've assembled here. They're all engineers so I easily have the best personality which is very exciting. They are always right which I just accept. It's pretty easy to accept defeat if you just know you're always going to be wrong when it comes to science, anything past long division, and just general problems.
However, as I sit here in the lobby of my apartment listening to what I can only imagine a first date with two 40+ year old humans I can't help but wonder why some things in life are so easy to get right. I mean, if you could look at me I'm wearing jorts, a gorgeous green sweater that says "my grandkids are a gift from god," and I have a huge appreciation for cheese. Sign me up for the Bachelorette already! I've more aggressively pursued Tinder and have had prospects but dear god why is it so hard to attract the bad ones and so hard to get the good ones?
After deciding to take a Tinderbreak after a guy I was seriously interested in relocated (yes, it's actually true. no, I did not scare him off), I decided to jump back into the cesspool waters. I met a guy, very normal, and went on a brunch date with him. It ended up being a long brunch date that ended up him sweating under both my scrutinizing questions and the blaze from the sun. Rule one: I can't have a guy that competes with me for sweat. Just can't happen. He took our long date as a good sign, little does the chap know, I could talk to a wall for a long time.
I decided on the continual support from my roommate to continue the tryst which accumulated to four dates, two dinners cooked by him, and some surface level conversations. On paper the guy was a catch. Then after one hangout whilst watching the Winter Solider we started kissing, which was fine, but then I decided to start laughing. Couldn't stop. The giggling could not be stopped. Why was I giggling? I tried to explain it was this face he made which was the essence of two emojis: one being a flirty face and the other being a angry/serious face but he couldn't believe me. Apparently, laughing is a serious attack on one's masculinity. Rule two: one must be able to laugh at one's self.
Then I finally got him to chill TF down and he proceeds to accidentally (I swear) hit my head against the hard part of my couch. In a little whimper of defeat he says, "I can't do anything right." Followed by, "what time is it? I've got an early start tomorrow" and leaves. IT WAS NINE, but as the old adage says, "BYE FELICIA."
Rule Three: once you lost your makeout impression, it's gone. especially early in the tinder-relationship.
BUTTTTTTTTTTT, it's cool. I'm still trekking. I have more stories, trust me. I gotta say I do it for the posts.








