Dating is Awful

Dating Is Really Complicated

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I know it may be hard to believe*, but I generally don’t spend a whole lot of my time dating. I mean, I can indulge in online dating with the best of them, but that’s never really worked out in my favor in the long run. I’m not very good at convincing the male half of the population that I am mysterious and date-able.
*Unless you’ve been reading this blog for a while.

Awkward...

Apparently guys don’t have a resounding appreciation for spontaneous sock puppet shows. I wish someone had told me.

But every now and then, a guy comes along that convinces me that dating is absolutely fun and worthwhile.

I don't know what you mean. I am totally normal.

What? Doesn’t every girl stand with her hands behind her back all the time?

Being asked out is fun. It’s exciting and fills the world with all sorts of possibilities. But then, trouble strikes.

AHHHHHHH

Trouble always seems to strike me in the form of complicated hair products.

There is always a flurry of activity as I try to remember how to be a real girl – one who has a working knowledge of eyelash curlers and a steady hand at eyeliner and mysteriously perfectly white teeth.

Ow Ow Ow

This is an accurate depiction of date preparation. Sometimes there are injuries.

All of this is to achieve the apparent goal of looking like a perfect stranger by the time the aforementioned guy comes to pick me up.

Probably

I think the goal really might be to convince guys that we women are magicians.

I do not know why this is. I have to assume it’s not just me who does this. But either way – dating is really confusing and complicated and requires a remarkable amount of preparation.

So maybe some day I’ll actually date someone long enough to just stay in.

This ALSO explains a lot about my lovelife.

Because it is very important to judge dates based on their sock puppet skills.

More Sweet Poems from the Internet

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The Internet is an amazing world of creativity, facts and possibilities. It’s also a dark pit of online dating sites. We’ve already discussed the fact that Zoosk thwarted my attempts to quit their online matchmaking services, but now I have a confession.

I can’t bring myself to miss out on the amazing entertainment value of the seduction attempts of The Men of Zoosk.

Curly mustaches!

The Men of Zoosk: Making handlebar mustaches look better than ever.

For the second time, I bring you:

Zoosketry
(Better defined as “Zoosk Poetry.” The dulcet words of potential woo-ers in the Land of Zoosk.)

I think UR a QT!
(Are you a real person? Or are you a Dateline spy trying to trick me into dating a 42 year old man for some special report? I’m on to you!)

<Series of numbers that are probably a phone number but I’m going to pretend they aren’t.> Tex mi.
(Oooo….Is this like the DaVinci Code? Will that series of numbers lead me to understand exactly what “Tex mi” means? Or are you a Texan? There are just so many possibilities here.)

If I sound drunk, it’s because you intoxicate me.
(Dammit. I’ve always wanted to be someone’s anti-drug. I guess I’ll have to settle for being a form of booze. Life goal failed.)

Oh so your too cute.
(Oh so grammar is not your thing.)

What’s your favorite type of naked game?
(Ok. Ok. We’re drawing a line right here. Because this is not a thing real people EVER SAY TO STRANGERS outside of a mental institution. Also, my favorite type of naked game is the one where everyone’s clothes are still on so everyone’s naked is still a secret. Keep it in your pants, or I’m calling Dateline. I have a direct line to them now.)

Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because you’re obviously an angel.
(Yes. It did. A lot. It’s not very nice to ask about someone’s traumatic history.)

What does it feel like to be a blonde joke?
(…At last. A man interested in my life-long struggle.)

If I sound drunk, it’s because you’re so intoxicating.
(Guys! GUYS! I got this one TWICE! It MUST be true!)

Nerdy is hot sometimes.
(Oh. Are we playing the “sometimes a fact statement” game? Because stovetops are hot sometimes. And the weather is occasionally inclement.)

Honestly, it’s just amazing that these men are still single.* Fellow single ladies, we have our pick of the litter.
*Proving Darwin’s theory of natural selection reassuringly true. 

In other news, sometimes I indulge in activities that aren’t just on the Internet.

This past weekend I went bowling and ice skating. And, because I am a coordinated lady, I fell during bowling. But not during ice skating.***

Figure skaters would look amazing on hockey skates

My hockey skates bring all the boys to the yard. Errr…the ice rink.

***Ok, so I also fell during ice skating, but when ice skating, I fell on top of someone – so I had help. During bowling, I fell all on my own. 

I would marvel at this, but there’s an obvious explanation. When bowling, I was trying to convince a charming man I was charming, too.**** I went ice skating with friends who already know of my tendency to fall at unexpected times.
****See? Sometimes I interact with real live men. It happens. Don’t look so shocked.

No one to impress = less falling. It’s basic physics.

Only I could find a dinosaur on a date.

As a consolation, I found this tiny orphan dinosaur at the bowling alley. So, you know, there’s that.

So, in summation: Darwin is a genius, and I really like dinosaurs. Happy Monday, everyone.

Oh Zoosk. I Just Can’t Quit You

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And I tried. Seriously. But apparently Zoosk is generally against me not being a part of its online community. It must be my innate charm. Or my photos that make me look like a deranged convict.

Incognito!

Go ahead. Just try and figure out what I actually look like from this helpful photo.

It’s probably the photos.

You may have gleaned that in recent times, I have had excessive practice dating. Well, I went on a hiatus. I tried to quit all of the online dating sites that were amusing me in my off hours. Amazingly, some of them refused my attempts to quit.* Ultimately this means that my profile still lurks the dark pages of the Internet, inviting messages that prompt email alerts and make a girl feel popular.

*By repeatedly breaking every time I tried to quit, until I got tired of the Internet and wandered off to watch The Muppet Show and eat cookies.

One of Zoosk’s unique site gimmicks is that they rank your popularity. Apparently, I am popular.

Ouch, Zoosk

Thanks, Zoosk!

And apparently in this context, popular means “dead in the middle average.” They have their own dictionary. It applies only to the land of Internet dating.

I would like to share with you the sweet seduction of Zoosk. These are the first messages people send me. We haven’t been conversing before. In fact, Zoosk only lets you send or read one message before demanding you pay them money and join their cult forever.** And, this one special time, I am going to also share with you my reactions to these smooth moves.

**Until you break down and marry whoever comes along, just to get the hell off the site.

Zoosk

Click if you would like to join the magical world of…really awkward messages.

Zoosketry
(Better defined as “Zoosk Poetry.” The dulcet words of potential woo-ers in the Land of Zoosk.)

“Hello, I’m a thief, and I’m here to steal your heart.”
(Hands off. I need that for circulation. But I appreciate your polite up-frontness.)

“Hi. Call <number redacted>. Mua.”
(What, for a good time? Is this a bathroom stall wall? Also, what is mua? Is that a kiss noise, or your name, or some form of Internet abbreviation I am too out of touch to know? I NEED ANSWERS.)

“I wanna practice wit u.”
(Practice _what_ exactly?)

“<Number redacted>”
(What, no instructions?! How will I know what to do with those digits?!)

“I’d love to go muddin’ with you.”
(I don’t…what…I…Get off the Internet!)

“First quality I notice in a woman is a beautiful smile. Yours has overwhelmed me in a wonderful way I never thought possible …”
(Oh crap. My smile is overwhelming?! I didn’t know. Have I been using this power for evil? NOOOOOO.)

“Wow u so beautiful”
(Thanks!)

“You don’t need a car to drive me crazy!”
(Oh, I see what you did there….)

“Wouldn’t we look cute on top of a wedding cake?”
(Oh, hey now. Hey hey hey. I haven’t even said hello yet. Now we’re going to go ruin someone’s wedding and stand on a ca-Oh. Oh. I see. That’s moving a little quickly, don’t you think?)

“Hi my is Jimmy and I.”
(…I don’t know where to go from here, Jimmy and I. I got nothin’.)

“I lost my phone number can I have yours?”
(YES! IT FINALLY HAPPENED! Someone ACTUALLY used this line on me!! And no.)

“I love cats.”
(Done. Done deal. Lets go get on top of a wedding cake. Just save me from this site.)

Now, you might think this is bragging. That I’m preening over how many people on the Internet have said nice things to me. But if you’re thinking that, then you have never been on an online dating site. First messages bubble with flattery and tales of your legendary beauty*** in the hopes of making a good impression – not because they actually think you’re pretty.

***Or handsomeness. I’m totally not sexiest. And I have no idea what the man experience is on these. Maybe women just send you messages that say “Meeee-yow!” and “Hey Hot Buns.” It could be painfully objectifying and way less flattering. It probably is, since none of you are wearing any shirts.

Also, in case you were wondering, Zoosk sent me a message today. On Zoosk.

Curly mustaches!

Apparently Zoosk allowed someone to pick the username Zoosk. Way to go, Zoosk.

The Internet is a land of lies. But there’s consolation in the universe. Like when your friend makes you ninjabread cookies and you eat them all while watching The Muppet Show.

Om nom nom nom

It’s a proven fact. Cookies that fight are the most delicious cookies, because only the best survive to consumption.

Happy Friday, you guys.