A friend of mine (you know who you are) recently asked me why I don’t blog about my dating experiences. As a single girl in my mid-late-20s, it seems like a natural topic to dive into. Especially since I’ve spent the last eight or so months dating like it was a second job.
There is one simple reason I don’t blog about my dating experiences.
No, seriously. Over the past eight or so months, I have found myself on dates with people who tell me, in depth, about how they would survive a zombie apocalypse by murdering everyone around them (graphic details were included). I have been on dates with people who gave me stacks of their garish business cards to “distribute to my friends.” (I’m still not sure why I would do that.) I have been on dates with people who legitimately used bad pickup lines in all seriousness. I have been stalked, stood up, proposed to, and propositioned.
At first, the horribleness of mid-late-20s dating was funny. Now it’s just dull, predictable, and sort of sad. So I don’t blog about the chronicles of my romantic life because I am seriously considering getting more cats and eating a chocolate cake.
Here is a picture to brighten your day:
In case you think I’m just not putting effort into meeting proper guys, here are the ways I have scoured the world for happy dates:
OKCupid? Tried it. Got stalked.
Plenty of Fish? Tried it. Quit due to my aversion to being murdered.
Match? Tried it. …Ok, this one wasn’t totally hopeless.
Zoosk? Tried it. Hate it.
EHarmony? …Nope. Not doing it.
Totally meeting normal people and agreeing to dates? Nope. This is not something people do in the south. Because everyone is already married.