Please No Dick Pics

The dead-ends of dating as I get 30-er & more desperate.

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Sorry, Gotta Go.

Mid-convo I told a guy I had to go to bed early.  What I meant was I have to sit in bed and watch Bey’s Lemonade in its entirety for the 4th time. Boy, bye.

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Playin’ Hard to Get

One time, a guy and I were having a pretty solid texting convo and he said, “hey, this is a pretty good texting convo.” I responded with, “it is, so you should ask me out soon.” He unmatched me. End of story.

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The Booty Call

Sunday was off to a good start, pilates!  Then got the text below on my way to getting killer abs.

David and I hooked up twice, via the app his name is saved under, with the understanding this was purely a hook up. He suggested it, and I went with it.  It was the peak of my horniness; I was within a month of a year’s dry spell and on full ADD mode cuz of it. 

The last time we banged left me pretty empty inside (Note to all women: when men say all they want to do is please you, it’s a fucking lie and don’t you fucking believe that shit).  I swore that was the last, so it took me a few to figure out how to respond.  I fought off all of my passive aggressive responses and was determined to make my adult-self proud with a transparent reply.

I was sure my response would maturely end this casual thing we had going, but no...

Instead, my naiveness responded with, “Sure.”  I went.  We cuddled.  And we had sex, for the 3rd time.  For the record, this was NOT a “Netflix and Chill” situation.  It was a “Netflix and Cuddle.”  So different, but not.

As I left his place, he said, “See you soon.”  I’m pretty sure if life was a game, I’d be the hooker on Mediterranean Blvd.

REFERENCE: “Mediterranean Avenue is not only the cheapest of the Monopoly properties, it is also the first property on the board and can't be reached without passing ‘Go.’”

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Everybody Love Dick.

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A Woman Graph

Met a dude on OKCupid, after 2 weeks of messaging, we took the convo to text (yes!). His responses were more than 1 week apart at best and boring AF (no!). I lost interest and stopped responding. He did not. He proceeded to send me texts and rando pics of him every 5 days. I finally told him it wasn’t working out. “Bummer,” he said and that was it. The entire exchange lasted a month and an f-ing half - no joke. 

Had he been more responsive, I would have been all for meeting IRL, but no. We had to talk about what we did 3 weekends ago for a solid month. Here’s what happens while we wait for your responses, men:

My eggs are over here dodging bullets from the infertility sniper staked out at every corner - not to mention every other risk life lobs my direction - and there you are reading GQ while you’re on the can. Ugh.

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I’m Really Good At...

I’m ending this weekend on a good note, goddammit.

There are rare occasions that someone writes a good profile.  It’s so rare, especially in the world of dumbed down “Dinder” that I share this: 

There’s something about that profile which exudes a maturity, sincerity, level of thoughtfulness that’s refreshing.  Basically, I’m impressed he can remove a spider from indoors to out without killing it.  

To top it off, there’s also Ginny.  The baller prairie dog who calls shotgun when she gets in a car.

Which obviously resulted in me researching prairie dogs on a Sunday at 11:26pm.  Totally worth it cuz I found this:

QUICK.  SOMEONE TELL ME IF PRAIRIE DOGS SERIOUSLY MAKE OUT LIKE THIS.  HURRY PLEASE.  I need to go to bed.

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Surf n’ Swipe

Oh great, Steven the BBQ’d lobster super likes me. Just when I thought all the good lobsters were snatched up.

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Saved By The Period.

Sometimes you can feel when there’s a dick pic around the corner.  That’s when you have to try to change the subject.  This is a success story.  Amen.

Dodged the first attempt, but Jim was persistent.

Lesson: play the period card early on.

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You Only Get 1 Shot

I play this song when prepping for a Tinder swipe sesh.

I’ve also been singing the following lines in my head and out loud at my grocery store over the past two weeks: “You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow / This opportunity comes once in a lifetime.”  People are like, “Damn girl, they’re just eggs.”  

Little do they know.

You know what’s as fragile as a fucking egg?  Online dating.  One wrong move and your chances are blown, leaving you with shards of egg shells in your hand and raw egg on your super cute date shoes.  You broke it.  He broke it.  You’re mutually on this dating site, but yet no one really gives a fuck.  No one’s trying.  Like, really trying.

Examples:

- He took too long to respond and you ain’t got time to wait twenty-fo’ hours.

- He spelled fourth “forth.”  Twice.  And you decided any man who can’t use a free spellcheck app (i.e. his brain) would be terribly inattentive in bed.

- His response was, “ (: ” and you decided there was no possible reply on the face of the earth for that.

- He didn’t ask a follow-up question and you let the conversation die, along with the potential to meet IRL and potentially have his baby.

- You set plans for a date.  Then you got busy, then he got busy, and apparently rescheduling a date is waaay harder than swiping right for someone else.

Individually, it’s not his fault and it’s not my fault.  It’s the way we’ve all decided to let this game play us.  Right???  Oh fuck it, at least Eminem gets me.  I mean, he wrote the online dating anthem.

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Backsliding Mofo

Sean or Greg. Sean. No Greg. No Sean. None. Start Dating. Oh, it sucks I miss Greg. I miss Sean. FML.

I’ve been climbing up the mountain, hitting snags on the trail and running back to the den for comfort. I literally could have climbed Kilimanjaro by now. 

There’s some weird comfort in knowing this thing has a name. Backsliding. It’s nice to know you aren’t the only person on earth lacking self control and stunting your growth. 

Let’s be strong and climb this mountain for reals this time. 

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Ben Lee, You Suck.

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Speaking of Dick Pics...

That’s his confession. #ursher

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Put Them Big Girl Pants On & Avoid the Temptation to Ghost

My usual steeze is to go out with pretty much anyone for way too long because they show interest and I don’t want to be a dick. I usually invest lots of time trying to discover something I could latch on to. Something that makes me say “Meh. Sure.” But, I’m finally finding my truth and trusting myself. If I’m not feeling it, theres no point in making things more complicated, just say “Hey, nice to know you, but nah.”

That brings me to “Zach.” I’m pretty fucking proud of myself for this one. He was super interested. We bro’d down super hard (probably a sign it would not be romantic) and then his tone changed dramatically. We had very similar personalities, like frighteningly. It was like looking in a mirror. So, I decided that he needed me to be more vulnerable and maybe he wanted to feel pursued a bit. Ok, I get that. I can do that. So I stepped out of my element and here’s how that panned out...

Okay, Okay. He’s all like “Hmm. Maybe. I think so. Work harder, girl”. He doesn’t follow-up the next day, so I decide to chase him, because I think that’s what he needs. Plus, I like chatting with the guy. 

Not only does he avoid the fact that I’m reaching out about hanging out that night, but he continues to be cagey about working late and it’s already 5pm. C’mon, dude.  Also, he brings Prince in the mix and now I’m 100% sure this thing is over. I mean, he doesn’t even care about PRINCE. This guy is obviously a self-centered monster. 

Yeah, I got a little passive aggressive. The plan was to slowly make my exit toward the back of the room, but my conscious was all like “girl, you better show this boy some respect and tell him it’s donzo.” Also, I wanted to avoid drunken booty calls and all of the complication that comes with that. 

Poor little boo has resorted to telling himself that I make up stories in my little woman brain. 

We went back and forth for a bit. I didn’t want him to think that comment was fair play. We ended it cordially and he asked me to let him know if I change my mind. As a 31 year-old female, I think he was trying to tell me “let me know when you give up.”

The moral of the story is the signs are real. If you feel like he’s trolling you, no need to ask everyone what they think about it. If it makes you feel crappy, that’s all the answer you need. Move on, you’re beautiful and other people want a piece of dat ass. Trust. 

Also, ghosting is incredibly hurtful. It may seem like you’re aren’t doing anything bad by avoiding since you’re actually not doing anything at all. But, think about it, someone on the other side could be emotionally invested and they could go on for a long time trying to crack the case. Give them that goodbye. It’s hard, but you sort of owe it to them. Unless they were a total dick and kicked your dog or something. 

<3 

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What are we going to call this blog?

KK: Something that communicates the struggle is for reals.

Wait For It

Some Beys looking for them Jays

My aging eggs

Meh

Eating pie in the dark

Will swipe for ___

JL: Can it also be on topics of life, like raccoons and cats?

No Sex in The City

OK30s

If You're Single and You Know It, Masturbate (it had 3 syllables)

50 Shades of Single

Fun. Not Fun.

STD (Single, Thirties & Desperate)