Don't Bet On It

Well, that didn't last long at all.  Yours truly officially deactivated her OKC profile for the second time yesterday.  Life is complicated; dating should not be.  If my life were less of a ridiculous romcomdegy (a romantic-comedy-tragedy.  c'mon get with me people), I expect it should go something like this: "You like me. I like you.  Cool, then get on board for some awesomesauce fun-and-sexytimes, Hotpants McGee!"  See, wasn't that simple?

As it's now October and I have not been on a single successful or enjoyable actual date this entire year, I am not only removing myself from online dating, but real world dating, too.  Maybe it sounds drastic, but honestly anything that forestalls the inevitable quarter life crisis I feel myself rapidly spiraling toward is a good thing.  (It's not too early for one of those, right?) That and, you know, I'm tired of feeling miserable.  It's wearisome.  And boring.  And so last season.  While I'm not a gigantic ball of sunshine at all hours of the day, I've been told I'm at least mildly tolerable and sometimes fun to hang out with.  I will take that compliment, thank you.  I'll also take singledom and self-imposed celibacy over any more explosive and exhausting emotional breakdowns that result in hours of crying and eyeballs swollen 24-hours later.  Eff that muthafuckin' noise, yo.

Fun fact that you may not know about me: I like to make stupid, stupid bets.  For the record, I have made a slap bet, and yes, I did lose.  C has now spent at least a year and half calculating and quantifying the precisely right moment to lay a high, hard one across my dumbass face.  Our friendship is one of love and fear...  And wine.  Trust that it ain't gonna be pretty when Slap Bet D-Day finally arrives.  I will definitely cry like a little girl -- no shame!  Among my other poorly placed bets is a "This Person Totally Will Never Contact Me Again" Bet.  I lost that one exactly three hours after making it.  (By the way, thank you for that, Assface.  I would have liked to keep that $10.  I had laundry to do.)  Now I finally made a bet I feel compelled not to break: no sex or dating for the rest of the year.  Yep.  You heard me: The rest of the year.  I would really like to win my ten dollars and keep my sanity.  Wish me luck!

She Volunteered as Tribute

My God do I want this lady on our Okay, Stupid team.

"Dating is the Worst, and Other Scientific Facts" by Katherine Fritz

Wow.  *Sigh*

In honor of the the collected quotes of genius proportions given at the end of the article (Seriously? "let me take you out and you can give me kisses?"  Oy vey), I give you...

This week in One-Liner FAILS!

"You're a graphic design artist?  For t-shirts? Tell me more about that, sounds interesting!"

I would, but you did not take note that my given career is in no way graphic design, nor do I do anything with t-shirts.  I did, however, explain my real job at great length in a carefully worded paragraph.

"Drinks on you?"

*Looks down* Well, not at present, no.

"Why didn't you stay in Kansas?"

Uhh... Why didn't you stay off the Internet?

 "Oh boy..."

Ok, I'm just at a loss with that one.

Help?

- N

Q: What's Cooler Than Cool? A: Ice. Cold.

It's seems C & I have both been remiss in updating our meager -- but very supportive -- audience on our forays into the L.A. dating scene.

Here's a quick recap of the last five months for me: drama, sexual assault (no, this is not a joke), more drama, investigations into restraining orders (unrelated to the assault), a dash of heartache, "wait, you're HOW old," total abysmal emotional spiral, more drama, friend break ups, work break ups, and generally being a total fucking moron and not listening to my head when it comes to matters of the heart.

So, I'm back.  It's a relatively dry spell.  My vagina has only been laid claim to by one person at my new workplace.  Go me! (But really it's kind of a problem.  Ew, stop.)

Seriously, though, maybe it's time to get back to those snarky comments and overly analytical discussions of dating profiles I'm known for most.

Here's one to start us off:

"[...]Hey cool girl i hope my pictures do me justice in portraying my coolness i ooze coolness from every pore LOL hey if you're cool enough then maybe just maybe ill let YOU take ME out on a date LOL (that was a joke in case u missed it or sensitive to sarcasm part of my persona) so if you like what you read and see then you know what to do!!

-IguanaLover97"

Am I the only one who wishes he had actually continued his run-on sentence to describe exactly what I should do?  I was honestly hoping for that.  Frankly,  it's been so long since I shut down my profile that I can't remember a thing about this guy, but I would bet money that the "97" in his username is referencing his year of birth.  Hmmm... what?  I'm an entire decade older than you.  You may be "cool," honey, but right now you're fucking with the Ice Queen.  And this bitch says go get yourself a bottle of lotion and some tissues and call it a day, kid. 

Things I Lie About

Hello internet, I'm C and I'm a liar.


I lie about all kinds of things - in high school it was about doing my homework, not making out with the sophomore in the back of the theatre, but mostly refusing to acknowledge the feelings I had in my pants for pretty much all of my guy friends. Ugh fine...it was a lot about homework.

Annnnd not much has changed. I still lie about making out with so-and-so in the back of whatever, I lie about how much I drink, and I most certainly lie to guys about going on dates. I'm not the phone number slut that N is, but I go on a lot of first dates and am not great at being honest when it's not working out. I have this need for constant approval and attention (theatre major!) and when it comes to dudes I don't have any interest in...I lie. I feel really bad about ditching in the middle of a date. I feel even worse about ignoring you after a few dates when I decide that I was just kidding myself and not at all interested in the super sweet hobbit sized guy living with his mother who has Parkinson's but whose house smells like cat pee. Yet I still do it. I ignore texts and phone calls until they just stop.

And don't get me wrong, I hate myself for it...okay only a little bit. But the worst part is, I get mad when guys can't be honest and tell me when they aren't interested. Conflict is so not my thing, but oh dear god, I am not a fragile china doll. If you are not interested in me (even after a few dates and some hanky panky) I am not going to fall apart. And this is something I need need to start doing as well.

We are all adults.....well most of us. And especially those in the entertainment biz, we are pretty good at handling rejection. So going forward (since Lent is over and so is my celibacy) I'm going to try and be honest about dating. Certainly not anything else, and definitely not about making out with that hot guy in line for the bathroom at the bar.


Just for kicks here is a message I've gotten recently. Go ahead and enjoy the sadness that is my life.


Where is the pic of your calves:)


Eww. This is why I lie about how much I drink.

Someone Date This Dude

I received the absolute sweetest message from a fella a couple days ago.  That's not even a joke.  It was just that damn nice.  While I have been accused of having the emotional range of, say, Grumpy Cat, in the past, I had to actually keep the floodgates in check this time.  I'm not sure whether it's my current mindset and dating woes, or simply the fact that massive amounts of estrogen hormones are coursing through my body and causing me to devour the cheese and chocolate-related contents of my fridge.  You know that moment when you can actually feel The Crazy take over?  Ooh, I have felt it my friends.  Get ready to ride the week-long emotional rollercoaster all the way to Psychoville (Pop. 1)!  (Sorry dudes, my sistahs know what's up.  Stay strong girlfriends.)

Anyway, for those of you wondering how to tackle the most horribly awkward question ever ("Why are you still single?") and come out unscathed, please note the following passage.  My first tip is to never, ever, ever phrase the question in those exact words.  You're asking for it.  "It" being either a terse response, a nasty quip, or, you know, a swift kick in the balls.  These are all viable options at the disposal of those of us with limited patience. I, for one, choose to breathe fire like a fucking dragon.   That's not even a joke.  I would torch your face.   But, to each his own, really.

I can't believe a woman like yourself is not tied down.  I know I don't know your past and probably speaking out of context but you are beautiful.  Whoever you were with before is not a man in my eyes because no man I know would not try their best to keep a gorgeous girl like you in their life. :) Just saying!  Haha

Ok, so maybe you could have skipped the self-effacing bit at the end with the added "I'm clearly trying to lighten the mood" fake laughter, but if you don't think that's sweet, you best conjure yourself a soul right quick.

Yet for every dude who sends me a message that gives me hope that the human race will avoid Idiocracy-level of stupidity, I receive five like this:

I thought your screen name was a drug reference.
As you can see LA is full of crazy drugged out snobs.  Run.

 Dear Sir, I really don't know what to do with your message.  First of all, I've been here, like, eight years.  I think the statute of limitations on running away from Crazytown expires at maaaaybe six months.  Secondly, and probably more important, it seems like you're actually referencing yourself as a "crazy drugged out snob," in which case, thanks for doing the hard work of weeding yourself out as a crazy cokehead for me!  Whew!  That saved me major time and effort.

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Oh, and here's one for the Stalker Files...

How dare you check me out and not even say hello! that's just rude... Now make your mom proud and say hi the proper way ;)

Really, guy?  Was that how your mother taught you to say hello?  Mmm, didn't think so.  Somewhere that woman is sighing to herself and thinking, "How did I raise such a douche?"  Well, maybe not those exact words.

I chose to ignore his message, despite my desire to respond with the explanation that my mother is actually the kind woman that would be proud of me for saying "Hi, I didn't contact you for a reason."  Seriously, guys, don't go fishing for a response.  If you "rate" me or something, I'm taking it as your passive-agressive way of saying you're interested, but only "kinda."  Call me old fashioned, but an actual note will catch my eye where the star system will not.


- N

Lighten the Mood, Bitch

Have no fear, friends.  In my hiatus post angst-ridden confessional, I have been diligently gathering fresh material from everyone's least favorite system of random encounters with the opposite sex.  I bring some gems to you now in all their gore- err, glory.

In the past few weeks, I have been contacted by extraterrestrials...

You seem fun. I've decided to take you to Mars with me. You wanna drive or navigate? =)

Apologies, E.T., but Mars is dreadful this time of year, how about I sit this one out?

I've also been contacted about participating in some weird, voyeuristic Mickey Mouse-tackling fetish...

Hey Dorothy(If you leftOz, but kept Toto, who does that make you?)[note: I'm pretty sure it still would make me Dorothy, dude] Do you want to go to Disneyland and tackle Mickey Mouse into the ground with me? It will be fun.

Just think how many people are going to be there taking a video of us and uploading it to YouTube. We could become internet stars. [bitchplz, I'm already an Internet sensash! Okay, Stupid what, whaaaat?]

I'm just messing with you. I would never do that, I love Mickey. [That fucker Goofy though...] I read your profile and I want to know more about you, specially[sic] if you're really a girl or just an empty account the website created to get guys to upgrade to "A-list" membership to message you once your inbox if full. How's your week going? Also, I can't pat my head and rub my stomach while hopping on one foot and reciting the alphabet backward, but I messaged anyway, because you can't control me. You're not my Mom. [Really? I hadn't noticed. Also, what's up with the sudden hostility?!]

Write back soon. I have more questions I want to ask [dear Jesus, no.]. If you don't write back, I know what that means. I'll probably look at your profile once more in a couple of days to hide you from my searches, no hard feelings here. ['...But fuck you for not talking to me!'] Good luck with your search.

Take care!

--- I Wanna Wear You As A Skin Suit While Having Acid Flashbacks*

*not his real name

You people need to stop contacting me after the drugs begin to take effect.  Points for excellent grammar (for the most part) though!  

...I bet you're a serial killer.

 

am not (in my twenties) ;\,, is that mean i cant msj you?

Maybe drunk messaging isn't the best bet, either.  No, bro, I'm pretty sure you can't "msj" me because there is no "j" in the word "message."

I've also come across the downright cringe-worthy: 

 

Anyone else wanna say "YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE?!" (Thank you, Mean Girls)

Really, though, that just makes me recoil. Why are you on this site then, Eeyore? Jesus, take your damn raincloud elsewhere.

I guess if this is the kind of thing I can look forward to this summer, I better invest in some decent quality alcohol.  Buckle up, kiddos, it's gonna be one helluva few months.

I'm Giving up Celibacy for Lent

Let me begin by saying I love The Bachelor. Nothing gets me more excited on Monay nights than watching women with daddy issues run rampant on tv. I also love Chris Harrison (the show's host and producer) but that's the kind of love one feel's down below, not in their heart. Anyways....I'm begining with The Bachelor because as it gets closer and closer to the finale, I'm getting closer and closer to killing myself because I don't have a myriad of men who want to date me.

Forget that tomorrow is Valentine's Day (a day I focus more on self love - for instance I love Bruce Willis and Die Hard 5 comes out tomorrow...coincidence? I think not. Bruce loves me too!). Forget that it's been about two months since I've been on a date. Let's focus on the fact that yesterday was Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.

I'm giving up celibacy for Lent.

I don't expect to suddenly be rolling in dudes (although certain recent events don't rule that possibility out) but I'm back out on the market so to speak. After that last guy literally ran away from me, I've been on a dating hiatus. No dating sites, no meeting new guys (which isn't hard when you haven't met anyone organically in about 8 months) and certainly no hooking up with friends. Execpt for that one time that we are not going to ever talk about. Ever.

What was my point? Oh right, not five minutes after I re-activated my dating profile I received this message:

ooompa oompa oompadi doo.. your earz are realy bootiful

great, now I fucking hate myself and my fucking oopma loompa ears.

Wait......how can I be an oompa loompa if I'm as white as paper?? Okay, now I'm just really confused. Does this guys have an ear fetish? What is an ear fetish and what kinds of things do you think it involves? No! Stop it! Get out of that dark place!

I'd like to forget that message happened and just keep getting heart warming notes like this:

Hi there,
I liked your profile, you are beautiful and you look smart too :). I think, we have lot in common and I am sure we can enjoy some good time with each. what say? Lets meet this week or next sometime for dinner/movie/hiking and see how things go.
Hope to hear from you soon.

Dev

Oh Dev, you are too cute and totally made up for that creepy ear guy! I'm not going to date you, but you are certainly on the path towards someone great/someone that can help me break this whole celibacy habit!

So in conclusion, we are all on Celibacy Gate 2013. Lets get this shit done. The time is now. Let's get this girl laid. Let's get it...you know what, I think we all get it.