Addicted to swiping

There are 3 things that I know about myself: I am extremely stubborn, I make jokes about absolutely everything (Just ask my dead grandmother…relax, she honestly doesn’t mind) and I can easily become obsessed with something I truly like. And I’m talking like a decade-long fixation and not a passing fad. Can you guess what my latest compulsion is?? Swiping on a particular, popular dating app, and not just any ole’ swiping. Swiping left is the new petty. I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t even read the profiles and look at the rest of their pictures, I just fucking swipe. I obviously I have specific rules for swiping like if there’s a cat in the first picture I see of you, you are dismissed. If there’s a big ass fish being hung from some sort of line, you are dismissed. If your first picture is of you in a group of 20 deep, you are dismissed. I’m addicted to the rush of mass rejection. What is it about rejection that makes us feel (well, those of us that are dead inside…) so goddamn powerful. And before you shake your head in disbelief, ask yourself why the whole world is on so many dating apps…

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The pursuit of my happiness…

I’ve neglected you. I don’t call, I don’t write but I’m back, just like that asshole you gave your number to 4 months ago. These last few months have been busy, amazing and scary all at once. I’ve changed. Kind of a big statement to make but this time off has shown me who I can be and what I’m made of. I’ve been resistant to my own evolution for a while now. And although there has been some growth in the last 3 years, it’s mostly been stagnant because of fear. I’m not one made or built for change, I know how that sounds and yes I am aware that one can live without constant change. But what scares me is the lack of control when those changes come into effect. I’m so scared of how change will affect me that I don’t always realize that it’s necessary. But it’s like I’m seeing many things and people for the first time ( I swear, I wanna slap myself for this cult-like sentence…). What happens when you finally realize that you’re the reason you’re unhappy? How can such a small revelation fuck your entire life up?

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The truth about dating younger men

A wise woman once said “Age ain’t nothing but a number”. True, age doesn’t necessarily define maturity.  You can’t help but be attracted to who you’re attracted to; younger, older, skinny, fat. How many times have you seen someone’s great-grandfathers trying to pick up a barely legal tenderoni and no one says a word. I mean, it’s obviously as normal as sliced bread and it will continue on long after we’re all dead. But what happens when a woman tries to do the same? Well, obviously she must be shamed! How dare she take advantages of such a young man, she’s a woman for Christ’s sake. She’s suppose to be fucking nurturing and have no desire to sit on said young and able dick. Because let’s face it, we’re suppose to accept men as they are: saggy hairy balls, gross back hair, erectile dysfunction. But as women, we should keep it “tight and right” under the threat of being traded for a younger model. We are suppose to see past superficiality of a smooth and young body and go for someone “our own age”, whatever the fuck that means.Why does age affect the way we date, as women but not men’s. Obviously we can cite “Patriarchy” as the most obvious reason, but is there more than that…..

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Forgiveness is the new self-care

I want to apologize for my absence but I was very ill and swimming in the bullshit as per usual. I mean my dating life is dry as fuck but there are those moments where I find myself in a shit storms of my own doing. You would think after kissing countless frogs, bums and undesirables, I would have the common sense to not even look back. BUT, your girl is nothing if she’s not consistently making BAD decisions about the men she chooses. It’s always risky when you allow someone who’s hurt you to come back in your life, because 9 times out of 10, they’ll screw you over in the exact same manner they previously did. And yes I got burned yet again by the same loser. I’m obviously a glutton for punishment but it’s also made me wonder why I decided to give him another chance. I don’t think my level of desperation has sunk that low (yet..) but I think I was mesmerized by the fact that he was crawling back to me (who doesn’t like to see a man on his knees) and that he had rehearsed his little presentation quite well…

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Black while online dating…

So in a effort to be less antisocial than I’ve been, I decided to join other millennials in search for…well I’m not so sure what yet, but at the very least a warm body to come over once in a while and promptly leave just a quickly as he came (pun fully intended…yes, I’m gross but you already knew that…). With the internet making physical human interaction as so accessible,  we are living in world where more than half of your social circle is either on Tinder, Grinder, OK Cupid, Bumble and the ever, cringe-worthy POF ( I apologize to divorced soccer moms, weekend dads and sexy, single grandmas everywhere…but come on!). With all these tools at our disposal, it should more than easy to troll for your next victim. But as with everything related to the internet, Those dating sites are littered with thousands moronic assholes who can barely spell but can’t help let their inner misogynist/xenophobic/racists monologues in your inbox…What the fuck is a girl to do?!?!

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So what’s your kink…

WARNING! Do not read this at work, or at the very least, don’t leave it up on your screen, because today we’re talking about one of my favorite subject: KINKS! OK, so if you were to look up the definition of kink; it pretty much refers to bizarre (YES!!!) and unconventional sexual preferences or behaviors (DOUBLE YES!!). Now I personally think that kinks are a normal part of sexuality. Everybody has something that they enjoy and that they feel somewhat ashamed for liking (that guilt…). Movies and TV shows have normalized “Vanilla Sex” because it looks pretty and obviously there are many things that you can’t show (unless you’re living in France…Lucky bastard/bitch). But through this conditioning, most people have now accepted that missionary and cowgirl are pretty much the positions that most people know and stick with. Which again is fine…well, not really but I mean people like what they like. But what happens when you’re someone with an insatiable appetite for weird, an open mind and willingness to try new things (Always try everything once…well, at least twice) and you are dating a “vanilla person”? How do you broach the subject of butt plugs with someone who things using lube is caused for alarm (yes, this is real story…it happened to a friend of a friend of mine…)? How to do you tell Vanilla that you like all the flavors and then some?

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Who wants to die alone?

As someone who dates (a lot), I often hear other friends who date (a lot) either complain that there is no one out there for them (7 billion people and really no one…how that math/logic works, I dunno but they swear…) and that they will end up alone for the rest of their days. I’d like to be the good friend and remind them they will never die alone and that I’ll be around to identify their remains once the cats have fed off their decaying carcasses. It does little to comfort them, but at least I’m trying. Obviously, my sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired but it does raise some serious questions for those of us who are in their 30’s or further along, with no kids or spouse in sight. Why are we so scared of dying alone?

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