Sunday, March 10, 2013

Dudes: Stop Doing These Things

Guys, stop. I look at a lot of your profiles and I keep seeing the same things, and it’s driving me crazy.

Stop doing these things.

  1. Telling me what you’re not.

“I don’t take shirtless pics of myself in the mirror, I don’t carry a murse, I’m not a douchebag”

OK, but who are you? And in the list of things you’re not, you kind of ignored some important ones… like not a murderer, rapist, woman, gang member, etc. “Oh, you’re a convicted felon? Well at least you don’t carry a murse!”

What is your objective? Is this what you assume every other dude on the site is doing and you’re trying to differentiate yourself? Or are you posting this as a warning because so many girls love guys that carry murses that you’re finding this adversely affects your chances as a non-murse-carrying guy? These are real questions – what is your actual objective?! Because I don’t know.

  1. Telling me what you don’t want

And I don’t mean “I don’t want to date a smoker.”

This goes hand-in-hand with #1. If you don't want a girl that takes duckface pictures of herself in the mirror, don't message girls with those photos. 

And when you spend a lot of time telling me you don’t want drama or princesses or pyschos or drama queens or fake bitches or daddy issues it makes me think that you probably have crappy taste in women.

Yes, the web is a sucky place to try to find love, or at least dates. Yes, you will encounter flakes, liars, people who misrepresent themselves, etc etc. But if you’ve encountered so many of these types that you've edited your profile to list the traits you're not interested in (e.g. dont message me if your in to drama) then you need to do one of two things: either quit online dating, or revise your screening strategy.

And if this is a list of the types of women that you’ve actually had relationships with, then maybe you’re the problem.

[Fun Fact: One guy actually put that he didn’t have any interest in talking to chicks that didn’t grow up with two married parents, and went on to say that he knows that women that didn’t grow up with a father have daddy issues. He was even somewhat apologetic about it, saying that he knows it’s unfair to blame the child for the parents’ mistakes but that he needed to steer clear. Because there is absolutely no way one parent, or two women, or two men, or whatever combination of friends and family could possibly ever raise a well-adjusted child. Basically he’s never seen Full House. I grew up with two married hetero parents and this still offended me to my core.]

  1. Putting “job” as your job

Or “making money” or “businessman” or “entrepreneur” or “it pays the bills” or any other stupid shit you can come up with to avoid putting what your job is. I see this on SO MANY profiles. Like probably at least half of them. If a girl put “making money” or “it pays the bills” as her job you’d assume she is a stripper. Should I assume you’re all strippers?

Also, when you put “artist/musician/chef/surf instructor/photographer” I don’t think “well-rounded.” I think “in denial about feasibility of making a career out of the arts; indecisive; probably has lived in his car at some point.”

Put the job that pays you money. If you have legitimate means of income from multiple lines of work, then pick the two that pay your bills, e.g. “photographer and surf instructor.” Then in the “about me” section you can tell me how you also play bass at weddings and you’ve sold a couple of your paintings.

  1. Messaging me and telling me you read my whole profile

Where did you get this idea that guys aren’t reading my profile? OK fine, you’re right, a lot of them aren’t. But most of them are, because I’ve put the effort in to make it funny and entertaining. And I can tell exactly when someone hasn’t read a line of it, when someone’s skimmed it, and when someone’s read the whole thing.

So what you are telling me is that you regularly message girls without having read their profiles.

So basically telling me you’re kind of a douche and you made an exception to being a douche just for me. Aww.

  1. Putting “no one reads these anyway” in your profile

Uh… I do. So this means one of two things: either you are getting messages from girls that haven’t read it (possible) or you don’t bother reading other people’s profiles (I’m gonna put my money on this one).

You and the dude from Peeve #4 should hang out. You can suck together.

  1. Not talk about your children

What. The. Fuck. You created offspring that you are partially or entirely responsible for physically, emotionally, and financially. I assume this (or these) tiny human (or tiny humans, or not-so-tiny humans) eats up a fair amount of your time and money and make conventional dating somewhat more difficult. And you probably love them. A lot. At least you really should.

So when you put “yes” to the “has children” question but then do not mention them at all, what the fuck dude. You are probably a terrible parent.

You don’t need to tell me their names or post their picture. But there is a big difference between a dude with shared custody of a two-year-old, and a dude with full custody of three kids ranging from seven to 12. And there’s an even bigger difference between the guys that say how many kids they have and how old they are, and the ones that don’t make a mention of them at all, and the difference is that I don’t really want to talk to guys in the latter group.

Also, you dads who put how old your kid is, that he/she is the love of your life, that you’ve got a good relationship with their mom, and that you’re not looking to introduce them to anyone right away? Kudos, you are being an amazing dad and I respect this so much and please have babies with me.

  1. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeggggggggggggggggggggyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ill fill this out later

When you do this, I look at your profile picture and think of you making these noises while you ejaculate.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Guess Who's Back (Hint: Not Eminem)


So uhh... I'm back. I think. Maybe. For tonight at least. Gah who knows.

I think it's time for me to venture back into the world of online dating. I've been away for almost(?) two years now, and my adventures in real-life dating have been... lackluster.

I don't know why I feel like reactivating my POF profile means I have to start blogging here again. Maybe it's a safety net, like if I at least entertain a few people here while I blunder through some horrible dates then it's really not so bad. Probably mostly I miss blogging, and dating proves to be a bottomless pit of topics.

Dating in Vancouver is hard. Really hard. I realize this isn't news to anyone. But it's my reality, and as 30 looms closer and closer I've realized that I kind of probably need to do everything possible to err... find a dude before I'm too old to procreate. Wow, that sounds super awful. But part of me really wants to be fat and sober for nine months followed by destroying my vagina with a natural delivery if possible, and so I'm kind of up against nature here, because it won't be long before it's way too risky to consider.

Also, I'm lonely.

There. I said it. Probably the hardest thing to actually spit out. But it's true. I'm sick of being the only single one. I'm sick of the pity invites, and I'm sick of not being invited to "couples only" shit. I really hope that when I have an SO that I never host "couples only" events because it's a super asshole thing to do to your single friends. But it'd be really nice to have someone as my go-to for weekends and holidays. And also for regular boning. I super miss regular boning. I'm not lonely in the way that someone without awesome friends would be. Just in the way that sitting at home watching TV is a lot nicer when you've got a shoulder to slump onto.

So anyway, here we go again. I think know there's a lot different about me from the last go round, so hopefully that means I'm less judgmental and more open-minded. But I hope some things haven't changed. Like how awesome my tits are.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

I Quit.

I quit. I quit all this. I quit the online dating, I quit the anonyblogging, I quit looking. I quit.

I'm nearly 26 and I've had one "real" relationship, and it was an on-again-off-again clusterfuck of every possible thing that could go wrong in a relationship. I've now been single for longer than its entire duration, and while I don't miss him or think about him or that relationship on a daily or even weekly basis, I feel the weight of the baggage that I still carry almost every day. Basically, that relationship destroyed me, and the past weeks' events have made it perfectly clear that I am in no position to be putting myself out there and claiming to be dateable and relationship-worthy because clearly I'm not.

Its damage trickles into every facet of my life, because I find it so difficult to trust people. I'm constantly re-evaluating the relationships I have with my friends, and snapping when I suspect or discover that they're hiding things from me or pushing me away, which only causes more of the same. I'm so totally broken.

A few days ago I finally got around to ending things with Maple Syrup. I was forced to do it over the phone because I've been on house arrest (figuratively, not literally) for the past ten days and I kept finding excuses for why he couldn't come visit. While some days I was definitely in no position to entertain visitors, I asked myself if I'd be pushing away anyone else, and the answer was no. To some extent I was only hurting myself, too, as this was a pretty boring and lonely week, and yet the only person who offered to come by and see how I was doing or asked if I needed anything was the only person I wasn't interested in seeing.

He wasn't surprised, and said that he'd noticed my decline in interest. He actually amazingly pinpinted exactly when it started, which was weeks before I thought he might start to notice.
No one's read me that well in a long time, and I even said to him that I had no good explanation and that I'd probably come to regret it not working. He even noted all the things about my type that he isn't and said he'd love to be friends, which I'm pretty stoked about because if there's one thing I need in my life right now it's quality people.

My main complaint is that he's too nice. Which translates to, basically I have no fucking idea what I want. Apparently the one noteworthy relationship that I've had has set the standard for all future relationships and my comfort zone is apparently being on the receiving end of a verbally abusive and generally degrading relationship. Yaaaaay.

A relative of mine made a comment on something I posted on Facebook (in regards to my ad-writing abilities):

"And I guess that sets you up rather well for Plenty of Fish if you ever find yourself in need of online dating... I shoulda had you write my ad, but then again, I'm pretty happy with my 'respondent'"

Which just made me think, well what the fuck. I'm 25 and I've been on POF for as long as I can remember. Online dating is most people's last resort. It's where my cousin met her husband after she was 30 and suffering from "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" syndrome. It's where the above-mentioned relative met his current girlfriend well into his fifties. It's not where someone should be receiving a "four year member" pin at the age of 25, if they gave those out.

And clearly, it's not working. I'm likely a rare statistic, having been a regular user of its services for multiple years and having gone on a tonne of first dates from it. I don't know anyone else that flounders around in this apparent pool of singles for more than a few months, let alone years, before getting bored or finding love and moving on. Clearly I'm doing it wrong.

So with a decently-full schedule of full-time work, part-time school and the onslaught of homework and technical practice that comes along with it, plus the onset of my favourite season (I need summer like I need air) that brings more favourite things (beaches, being barefoot, and of course my beloved BC Lions), it's time to quit. Quit pretending that I'm ready for something that I'm not, quit pretending like I ever will be, quit pretending that I know what I want, and quit wasting everyone's time.

Additionally, regardless of whether some beefy mechanic swoops in and sweeps me off my feet tomorrow (doubtful) or if I turn into a crazy dog lady spinster (realistic), I'm quitting the blogging. I feel like an ass about it. I know that I'd be some not-happy emotion (hurt, offended, pissed off) if I happened to find out that someone I was on a date with was taking mental notes of ways to get a laugh when they blogged about it later on, and since I say and do a lot of stupid things on first dates (and on second dates, and thirds, and at work, and basically just every day of my life) it's kind of a double standard. The closest thing to religion or faith that's ever resonated with me is the idea of karma, and this doesn't exactly bode well for a influx of positivity.

So thanks, kind readers, and good luck. Mostly to me, because I undoubtedly need it more than you. Sorry, I'm totally gonna hog it.

I quit.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Shut Up Shut Up Shut Up

I work in a job where people call me to talk about things related to work and unintentionally dig their own graves while on the phone. Between people being rude, pushy, demanding, or even burping on the phone, I know when someone's phone skills are a reflection of their face-to-face skills and that I have to cut my losses before they do any more damage. I just had that happen with a dude calling to ask me out. It's not often that actually picking up the phone and calling me is a dealbreaker; in fact, calling happens so rarely now that it usually makes me more into meeting a guy. I don't know how to describe his phone manner as anything other than incredibly socially awkward. I have no idea if he was nervous or if this is just how he always is, but listening to someone talk about something totally serious and having it peppered with weird bursts of uncalled-for laughter is torturous. It's the kind of conversation you expect from a 17-year-old kid, not someone a decade older than that. He rushed through telling me who he was and into his life story so quickly that I needed to wait for him to finally pause to catch his breath to ask him to stop and repeat his name again. And he talked way too much. That probably seems hypocritical to anyone that's ever met me and knows I'll talk your ear off, but you can't have two super-talky people. Plus, I was telling the story (that he asked to hear), so continually interrupting me to babble on about shit I don't care about is painful. Just shut up. Please. I had an idea he might be this way, as his POF messages got increasing longer while mine got shorter each time, which is probably why I didn't reply to his text last week. I just got a new phone, and I'm generally not one to screen calls, so I didn't think to not answer a call from a 604 areacode. Big mistake. Anyway, rather than just tell him that he sounded like a dork on the phone and that I couldn't bear the thought of having to sit through dinner conversation with him, I let him down gently and told him I'm seeing someone. Which isn't untrue, but it's certainly not why I didn't want to meet him. Ugh. Just shut up.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

How About Not Canceling On Me? And Other Things

In this long-overdue, sure-to-end-up-mongo-huge post, you will find:

1) a date recap,
2) me pissed the fuck off at having been cancelled on twice,
3) a general dating recap of the last month and a half,
4) and my present dilemma.

Feel free to skip ahead to whatever piques your interest.

1) Two Mondays ago I went out with a new guy from POF. 31, fresh outta school with a kickass education and his foot in the door at a megafirm. We'll call him Banks.

Banks messaged me on POF with a "holy are you for real?" intro (apparently girls into beer and football are a rare breed) and after a few messages he asked me out. We hit up Rodney's Oyster House (love love love!) in Yaletown last Monday for oysters and caesars and sassy attitude from the servers.

Rodney's was his pick, and I was impressed; it's not cheap, and since guys can usually expect to pay on the first date they're typically less inclined to choose pricey spots in case the first go is a dud. It's even more risky with online dating: the first date never is a date. It's just to suss out if they're who they say they are, and then date #2 is usually the first real date.

It went well! Aside from the limitations imposed by it being a work night for both of us, and us both being at the mercy of the SkyTrain which doesn't run that late on weekdays, it was a pretty stellar first date. Banter, life stories and oysters at Rodney's, and then we wandered around Yaletown hunting for dessert, which we found at Brix in their tropically-temperatured patio. So cozy!

I've been struggling with trying to figure out what my type really is, and if types are important, but that's probably another blog post all on its own. Regardless, he had a lot of the qualities I really dig; he meets my "manliness" quota, if that makes any sense. Plus he's been a Lions season ticket holder for seven times as long as me. That's impressive. And I really liked his sense of style. Particularly his socks. They had anchors on them.

Since it was the not-a-real-date-first-date, and since we said goodbye at the Canada Line, there wasn't an opportunity for a goodnight smooch without a dozen strangers playing witness to it, so I couldn't gauge if he was interested or not... until ten minutes later when he texted me that he'd like to get together again. Yay!

I had made him make all the decisions surrounding date numero uno, so he retaliated with making me choose everything for our second encounter. Easy! Friday night at the Eatery, my standby.

Thursday he texted me that he had to cancel, and gave a legit family-needs-me reason. No problem, and I told him if he wanted to reschedule to let me know. "Love to" was his response. So we decided on a second attempt at the Eatery for tomorrow night, and even confirmed times on Monday.

Today I get a text: "Hate doing this again but I won't be able to make it tmrw night"

2) Now I'm pissed. You don't fucking cancel on people two FRIDAYS in a row. At least not without giving a good reason. Last week he gave a reason and he gets a pass. And I don't need details, I just need a reason to let it slide again; cite family, or work, or illness, or whatever else is the reason for bailing, but give me a reason to not think you're just a flaky jackass for canceling on a Friday date the Thursday before two weeks in a row.

Fridays are gold. I get two nights a week to get tanked and be slutty without it affecting my job. If I offer one to you, understand that you better hold up your end of the bargain and be there for me in my slutty drunkenness.

Anyway, I'm pissed. But I just replaced Banks with my hot co-worker instead, and her and I are going to have a lovely night at the Eatery tomorrow night getting sloppy on Tokyo Rose saketinis and Banks can suck my hypothetical dick.

3) I've been seeing Maple Syrup since the beginning of Feb, and he's a treat. He's sweet and funny and thoughtful (On Tuesday he surprised me at work with sushi!) and he's a really good catch. We've hung out every weekend since we met, with a few mini dates here and there during the week.

4) I just don't know. I'm having such a hard time with this. I like him, he's awesome, we get along great. He's a lot of what I think I'm looking for, and yet it seems like there's something missing. I want to call it lack of chemistry, but it's not even that; maybe just lack of mega-chemistry? Anyway, all the components necessary to build a really solid relationship, but I'm just not sold on it. I worry that my baggage and commitmentphobia, as well as that having been single for four years now means I'm pretty good at it, means I'm just finding reasons to throw it away.

Either way, I need to make a decision soon; I'm starting to get a relationshippy vibe from him, and I think he might want to talk about where we're at. And I don't by any means want to string him along or waste his time, but I also like him too much to just nix everything on a whim. I think if I were five years older it'd be a different situation, but I'm just not sure he's right for me right now.

All I can do it follow my heart! Which is pretty depressing considering how fucked it's gotten me in the past. Screw you, heart.