Shaping Up to be a Great Weekend

I'll keep this post short because I really want to encourage folks to read this super amazing article:

How to Pick Your Life Partner

If you're single and struggling to figure it out, excellent read. If you're coupled up and struggling to figure out how people can be 31 and single, still an excellent read. I'm trying to decide who I want to spend the next 60+ years with (give or take). This is a HUGE decision.

Key takeaway:

 And when you choose a life partner, you're choosing a lot of things, including your parenting partner and someone who will deeply influence your children, your eating companion for about 20,000 meals, your travel companion for about 100 vacations, your primary leisure time and retirement friend, your career therapist, and someone whose day you'll hear about 18,000 times.

Intense shit.

I know you all come here for the humor (or at least that's my assumption), so here's a good look at what's to come:

My favorite day of the year, by far, is the Saturday before Mardi Gras. I'm part of a huge group of people that meets up in the same spot every year to throw a gigantic party that starts early in the morning and goes well into the night. I get so excited about it that the moment someone mentions any of the 3 parades that day and a desire to see them but an uncertainty of where to stand, I automatically invite him/her to join us. This year is no exception, and my list of invitees is growing. It currently includes a guy I met online, a guy I was seeing a while back, other guys I know who happen to be single, and anyone who sees my coming status on FB that will say all are welcome.

The universe is a great thing, so I imagine the options are none of them show up or all of them do. Keep your fingers crossed for all of them because I enjoy when the universe is funny and it will result in a better blog post for you all. (I promise I didn't invite all of these people to entertain the masses. I did it because I truly believe in the quality of our party and that everyone should have fun at Mardi Gras. And then I started rattling off who I had invited to my mom - because of course my parents will be there - and I went "oh, wait...")

Have a great weekend, Happy Mardi Gras, and laissez les bon temps rouler!!!

You Gotta Have Hope

A friend of mine and I were venting about guys earlier (ugh, guys...), which was exactly what I needed after eating ice cream for dinner and binge watching So You Think You Can Dance contemporary routines on YouTube during the NASCAR rain delay. We were talking about how people don't always behave how you would like them to, and how sometimes they let you down whether or not it's their intention to do so. We talked about relationships that came close but never actually were when she said, "It's like meeting a guy on summer vacation... not to get all Grease here..." And I told her it's actually nothing like that because, as we all know, at the end of Grease Danny & Sandy ride off in a flying car to what is surely their own happily ever after. Then she responded, "Well, it's like that if they didn't end up in the same high school together."

And therein lies the problem.

We live in a world of chick flicks, rom-coms, Disney movies and happily ever afters, and reality will never measure up to that fantasy world. Real life isn't all Notting Hill and When Harry Met Sally. Sleepless in Seattle was great, but I can't imagine there are that many couples in the world who found happily ever after when someone fell in love with a voice on the radio. If any chick flick comes close to real life, it's probably Casablanca - the woman from your past walked into your gin joint with another man, and left with him, too. Sorry, guy, sometimes it doesn't work out.

Sometimes life sends someone your way and you suddenly find yourself feeling like you're in a chick flick - you're inspired to make your feelings known and hold out hope that they're reciprocated. But life is less like a chick flick and more like a ridiculous episode of How I Met Your Mother. Sometimes you pour your heart out in a moment of strength you didn't know you had (or several moments, if you're a special kind of crazy) and you don't get the answer you want to hear. Even worse, sometimes you get this:

That's the exact opposite of fun, kids (though I highly recommend that episode, "Hooked," as we've all been on someone's hook at some point and have probably had someone on ours). And as much as that sucks, and as painful as it is to be hung up on someone who may feel the same way but isn't inspired to do anything about it, you have to keep going.

You have to keep trying and hoping and loving people. Even if you suspect a breakup might be in your near future, you have to find that part of you that says it might not be. Even if you realize that none of the people you're meeting online might end up being "the one," you have to keep opening those messages. Even when you suspect the next message you're going to open says, "I want to suck on your titties" (yep, that has happened), you open it anyway because you're really hoping it says, "Jay Cutler is a cat, and I knew that without googling it." You can't give up the hope. Whether you hope that someone comes around or someone walks into your gin joint or that you're still in your relationship this weekend, you have to keep hoping. In the words of Emily Dickinson:

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all - 

Taking Bets on How Long I Keep My Sanity

70 hours.

At this point, I have been a member of this one dating site for 70 hours. In that time, I've been contacted by...

70 different men. (correction, 69 men and 1 woman. Barking up the wrong tree, lady.)

That's really not bad, when you think about it. Average of 1 new person per hour.

18 of them started with only one word: hi, hey, hello, cute, wow.

1 very honest soul started off by introducing himself and stating that he has a girlfriend. Thanks for the honesty.

1 previously mentioned fella liked the non-existent moose on my profile. My very brief conversation with him continues to confuse the hell out of me.

2 people appear to stand a decent chance of getting to meet me offline. Those odds are pretty terrible. Now I understand why 1 out of 5 relationships begin online and 4 out of 5 of them don't.

But amid all the fools, slightly desperate folks, new in towns looking for tour guides, and misguided lesbians, I managed to get a message that stood out from all the rest. It was like nothing I had ever read before, including the moose message.

Hey sweet thing. I just wanted to let you know that that guy who emailed you right after me? He sucks. Really. He doesn’t deserve to get the time of day from a hottie like yourself. Listen, my schedule is super busy but I think you may be worth a shot. If you’re not interested in a sexy, successful man, I’m sure there are plenty of losers like that other guy in your mailbox.

I checked out his profile and confirmed my suspicions: he is one of those guys that uses pickup artist tactics (aka "The Game"). I thought about ignoring him, but being the lovely, polite lady that I am, I decided instead to call him out on his "game" nonsense. He told me that it was, in fact, a bunch of nonsense, but that a girl with a sense of humor will appreciate it. Then he asked me my name. I told him it was "not interested," and he cursed at me and vanished.

Sorry, mom, but we're no closer to your future grandkids today than we were yesterday. I did add a picture that shows a little cleavage. I'm sure that will attract the classy, high quality individual I am seeking. And if that doesn't work, there's one of me in my turkey hat that's sure to get me a winner.

Oops, I Did It Again...

I don't know what stroke of genius made me decide to sign up on a dating website the other day, but it happened. I can't blame it on the alcohol. I'd like to blame it on Valentine's Day, but that's probably not accurate either. I'll blame it on people I know who have had actual success with this stupid online dating thing. Yeah, that's it. It's all your fault, all you happily-coupled up people who met your SO's online!

So 3 days later, here I sit. At the very least, it's mildly entertaining. At most, it's making me contemplate switching teams. Here's the recap -


Day 1: Make half-assed attempt at profile. Apparently you can't look at people anymore without first jumping through 46 flaming hoops. Hoops sort of complete for now. Picture to come eventually. I get zero interest. Nobody likes a chick without a picture.

Day 2: Still no picture because I'm still not convinced I want to be here. Add to that the fact that there are men here I actually know, some of whom know how much I hate online dating. So now there's a pride element... I started clicking through profiles of people the site decided I needed to see. A couple of them have decided this warranted a conversation. They start off nice enough and then it's "where's your pic?" One guy is willing to continue on a conversation without a picture. Seems he's as hesitant as I am about the whole thing. He has one up, and he's attractive. We'll see where this goes.

Day 3: I uploaded a picture and all hell broke loose. Seriously, kids, I'm not a supermodel. This is absurd. Naturally, people who know me IRL have reached out. You saw me, I saw you, we're both single and we have to stop meeting like this. Attractive guy approves of my photo. That helps. A couple of other decent human beings have popped up. And then there were the, um, other guys. My rough estimate says 85% of the messages I got started with "Hi" or some version of that. No other words. No questions. Just "Hi."

One guy seemed decent enough until he got pissed that I wouldn't go out with him on Friday. It's Valentine's Day. That is absolutely not an appropriate day for a first date. Besides, I have a date with my favorite bartender at my favorite bar that night, and I'm sure all my Cheers buddies would be sad if I didn't show up.

Lots of guys asked what I do for a living. I tend to be vague about it - politics, consulting work, I sit in an office. I used political consulting on one guy and he went off on how I make all the money and he's just a poor old country boy. Wait, what?

My favorite, by far, is this gem of a message: "Good afternoon jolie femme. How are you? As the chilly breeze wisp by my window, I saw your profile. The moose is a nice touch. And a kindred spirit in the fitness ministry. It would be nice to know more about the woman behind the smile. Let's converse after you check out my profile. Hope to her from you. Good day."

There is no moose, anything resembling a moose, or the word "moose" anywhere on my profile. Being the lovely human I am, I called him out on it. Apparently the moose is "what makes you you." I'm still confused.

So here we are again... back on this crazy roller coaster to find my one true love. I'm sure I'll be here often to keep my head straight during the adventure.

And to the 23 year old kid who likes thrift stores, vinyl and cassettes... no.