single life

CultureDatingSex

So it finally happens, I meet someone who is brilliant and beautiful, funny, sweet, and holy shit INTERESTED IN ME. We talk all night, maybe even share an innocent kiss, and exchange numbers. I am excited for the first time in months.

Then BOOM, I do a teenie bit of Facebook stalking through our one mutual friend just to find out that they have a girlfriend. Dude, we live in a place and time where it seems that everyone is polyamorous. There is no need to lie to me or be unfaithful to your partner.

You have to be honest, and if you are poly but your partner is not, that throws a big curve ball into the situation. Perhaps rethink your monogamous relationship before bringing someone else into your shit. I have never cheated on someone I was dating.

My friend has gone through the same situation time and time again. After just ending a relationship where her mate came out as having a pregnant girlfriend at home, you would think her luck would get better. The next person she sleeps with is a good friend, who happens to be in an unhappy relationship that he won’t end. She then meets a handsome man at work, he flirts hard, they exchange info because he expressed interest in her show later that night.

Pretty quickly in he says that he has a girlfriend, he is “disappointed that he has a girlfriend,” waaaait, what? HE is disappointed? Then dump her and live your life! Don’t ever be with someone you are disappointed to be with, it’s not fair to her or you. My friend backed off on the conversation only to be textually bombarded by this same guy drunk a few days later begging her to come fuck him.

NO! Not allowed to do that. How dirty and second rate do you think she feels now? Gross bro, just stop.

I have another friend who knowingly had an affair with a married man. Now she feels like that’s the only people she attracts. It is definitely not her goal, she wants love like anyone else. Like they smell the mistress vibe on her or something. There is something about that, wanting to be with someone with no strings, knowing that they will never want more from you but the secret triste that is keeping them hard.

Often the mistress will get the best parts of their lover, they get the fantasy, the sex without the problems. They will also never get the support or companionship of a real relationship, but if that’s what you are looking for, it might be an ideal situation for you.

I remember hooking up with a guy I met on the internet a few years ago. We went on a few dates, he was so great, a poet, a musician, and a fun human. I called him “Big Jon” so you know the sex was amazing.

He must have written 100 poems about how beautiful I was in the short time we were together, I was smitten. He admitted to driving the wrong way on one way streets to get to my house sooner, he carried my bags and held the door for me. A total gentleman, until one night the truth came out.

After a session he said “I don’t want to smell like woman.” What? We just had sex, what to you expect to smell like? Flowers?

I asked him why and he said he didn’t want his wife to know about us. It must have been the whiskey and weed that made him so honest that night. It was the last time I ever saw him, I am NOBODY’S secret side bitch.

I actually did run into him in a dollar store maybe two months later. He had his son in the cart and a small, beautiful, tattooed woman with him putting stuff in the cart that I assume was his wife. They looked like a happy, functioning family.

I saw the panic in his eyes but just kept on walking without even acknowledging his existence. I am no home wrecker.

It’s a shock that people actually lie on online dating profiles, right? You know the guy who says he is 6’1 and single is probably 5’8 and married. There is no need to lie on these things, people are looking for all kinds of hook ups.

There are  websites dedicated to cheaters. Cheat with other cheaters! That’s a killer concept.

About a month ago I was at my favorite local watering hole when I saw man I had never seen before. He was beautiful, we danced, we chatted. He was a children’s book author!

I was in heaven, he touched my butt and kissed me and I thought, wow, finally an artist! Then all of a sudden he just said he couldn’t do this, no explanation.

I remembered the name of one of his books and googled him when I got home. He is married. Of course him and his wife write books together about their kids. Makes sense.

I do not accept being hidden in the shadows. You love me fully and out loud or you can’t have me at all. I am open to being with a polyamorous partner but have not successfully done so. I want to think that I can be open and communicate my needs, but it is not simple.

I know myself, I am passionate, I am all or nothing. I really want to be in love. I want to take care of someone, I want a human to love me, I want to be their serenity, I want to travel the world with someone who is proud to be with me.

Being single, I do have an active sexual lifestyle. I know I can get laid every day of the week if I really wanted to, but I don’t because I have respect for myself. I know that some people just want to get off and run.

Being single and beautiful makes me a target for assholes who put their wedding rings in their pocket on a Saturday night.

Married folks might be bored and I am certainly exciting. These people are looking for validation, they are looking for excitement, something that can often times be lost in long term relationships.

My availability is NOT an invitation. Just because I am single and looking does not mean I am looking for you, asshole. There is no burly football player boyfriend looming over me saying hands off buck, just lil ol me and my shining smile alone in the world.

I have learned to just hold out for what I want and never accept less. I will not compromise my morals for my libido. I will never knowingly take part in breaking up a relationship or marginalizing my own needs.

Maybe I should stop looking for love at bars? Or just come to terms with the fact that it seems most people over 30 are taken. Sadly, there is no way to safeguard yourself from these advances. Assholes happen, IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!

We all deserve nothing but the best even though we must swim through a stream of shit to get there.

CultureHumour

So, you’re single. Big deal. Who cares? So what if all your couple friends talk about you when you’re not around in a concerned tone usually reserved for speaking about someone who just found out they have cancer. There’s no shame in being single. Be proud, you impossible-to-love loner weirdo.

But just because you’re single doesn’t mean you need to fall into bad eating habits in an attempt to fill the all-consuming void inside you. Microwave burritos, frozen pizzas, and potato wedges from the fried chicken shack down the street that’s been shut down four times already this year for health code violations are easy options when you’ve got no one to impress with your culinary prowess. But, come on, you’re better than this. That chicken place is covered in rodent droppings. They found them on the ceiling fan once. How does that even happen?

There are loads of great tasting, simple to prepare meals for one out there that won’t hurt your wallet, either. So, whether you just got dumped or you’ve been perpetually single for years, keep in mind that you’re fundamentally damaged and no one will ever be able to commit to a healthy long-lasting partnership with you because you’re incapable of being happy with who you are.

Wait, sorry, I meant to say keep in mind that a fun, healthy solo dinner is just a few easy steps away. Ignore that last thing. Anyway, here are a few of my favourites for you to try.

This first one is a regular in my meal plan because it’s so quick and requires so few ingredients. Start with one 1.5 litre bottle of wine (red or white, the recipe’s pretty flexible), and drink a third of it. Officially the recipe calls for you to drink from a wine glass, but that’s not required. I usually use a nice ceramic coffee mug, but you can use pretty much any receptacle you have on hand. Or just drink straight from the bottle. The recipe doesn’t call for any judgment. I once completed the entire thing using a cat dish because I ran out of clean cups.

Once the first third of the bottle is finished, the next step is to go outside for five to seven minutes and yell at something alive. It could be a stranger out walking their dog, it could be their dog, it could be a squirrel or a bug, the important thing is that it’s a living being that can comprehend on some level that you’re angry at life and you’re taking that out on it unfairly.

In a pinch, if you can’t find anything else, yell at God. Whether God exists, or is “alive”, is not for this recipe to weigh in on, but if you can’t find even a bird or something hanging around, God can be substituted.

Once you have shouted yourself hoarse, or the neighbours have dialed the police, return to the wine, and drink the next third. As you’re doing this, log into Facebook. It’s time to start messaging exes. Begin by telling them it was a mistake to ever let them out of your life, and things were so much better when you were together, despite all those things you said, you can see that now. You’re seeing things clearly for the first time. They were right this whole time, and you’re sorry for everything, especially that unfortunate toast at their sister’s wedding.

Switch gears very quickly at this point, telling them that they don’t deserve you and they’ll never find someone as good at oral as you are. Then preemptively block them, catch a bus to where they live, and take a shit right outside the drivers’ side door of their Optima.

If you’re already blocked by your exes, you’ll have to find a more creative way to get a message out. I put them into articles I write, because I know you’re reading this, Stephanie. I hope Brad knows he’s not just moving in with you, he’s also moving in with your borderline pathological trust issues.

The final step is finishing the last third of the wine. This will complete the meal with a lot of crying, perhaps a hole punched in the drywall or cupboard doors ripped off, and a good deal of speculation on who would attend your funeral if you died tonight. The meal is capped off when you pass out in the bathtub.

That’s it, I guess. I know I said I had a few recipes to share, but, well, life’s full of all kinds of disappointments, isn’t it? That’s what I was screaming about at that caterpillar after a third of a bottle of wine last night, anyway.

 

Photo by korafotomorgana via Flickr

CultureDating

Ah, Tinder. The latest buzz-making matchmaking app and my last obsession. Cause yeah, no more mooching off my friends to play… I created my own account! Hey man, no shame; everybody with a smartphone is drinking that Kool-Aid.

One great thing about Tinder is the fact that it’s semi-anonymous. No last names and few pictures paint an illusion of privacy to unashamedly pursue your online quest for booty. But it feels legit enough, requiring you to sign up with a valid Facebook profile, that finding yourself trapped in some psycho’s car trunk is not as high on the list of fears if meeting up. The person you are viewing is (almost always) real, and the information (first name and age) is probably accurate.

Unless you’re my sister who created Sloth McSlow to satisfy her Tinderiosity:

sloth mcslow
This guy is awesome.

Either you go on Tinder, or you play Tinder. How people talk about the app is a good indication of how seriously they take its hook-up potential. Sorry to crush your dreams bros, but many ladies are solely on there for an ego boost. There are just as many thundercunts as there are douchebags in this world.

But in regards to those who are really on Tinder to ignite some sparks, the app is no different than any other virtual dating playground. You’ll get all sorts of users ranging from seeking DTFs, real connections, right down to friendly acquaintances. I’ve even swiped through a few couples looking to add a little extra somethin’ somethin’ to the bedroom.

What’s crazy is how addictive it is. Like fo’ real. You will literally spend hours nope-ing the hell out of rando after rando. And for what? Honestly it’s like maintenance stroking your hard-on until the good porn finishes loading; you keep swiping with tired determination until you fall upon an actual “maybe” – or better yet – until you find an absolute YES (the unicorn of Tinder). That or your battery dies.

As a girl, and for simplicity’s sake, there are two types of men: Jerks and Nice Guys. Jerks are players who want to score with your pretty face but not pay for breakfast. Nice Guys always put on a condom and sometimes wear sweaters.

But hold the fuck up. With Tinder, jerk-o-meters get fuzzy. Because even if you think you found a Nice Guy, the dude’s gotta be superficial on some level, right? Tinder matches are founded on aesthetic compatibility after all. It’s a real Catch 22.

So what about superficial assumptions? My swiping system goes as such:

If you’re wearing sunglasses, I assume you have a lazy eye.
Swipe left.
Ed Hardy t-shirt wearers and swagfags alike.
Swipe left.
If you take a selfie while driving? That’s dangerous road conduct and terrible camera angle.
Swipe left.
If you’re posing in a mirror, you probably have short arms.
Swipe left.
If you quote James Dean, it’s just too cliche.
Swipe left.
If you have a tribal tattoo, you’re either 450 or have Chlamydia (don’t know which is worst).
Swipe left.
If you’re smoking a cigar, you have a small penis.
Swipe left.
If you’re shown traveling by backpack, you can’t afford a hotel and you’re probably broke.
Swipe left.
If you’re wearing a fedora, you’re the taint that girls try to bleach off their assholes.
Swipe left.
If you’re doing the Zoolander eyebrow thing, the equivalent of the male “duck face”.
Swipe left.
If you’re posing next to GSP, you look underwhelming by comparison no matter what.
Swipe left.
If you have kids, awwwwww…
Swipe left.

So basically, all guys. Swipe left. I’m window shopping 90% of the time.

Noobs take time to view your account. They appreciate the funny picture where you’re wearing that 3 Amigos sombrero. They give you points for writing a quirky bio. They feel morally obliged to answer your message if you matched.

Pros (you get your badge after, like, 3 days) need less than 0.75 seconds to process your picture. Your face becomes a blur along with every other stranger’s. Swipe, swipe, swi- Awe shit! I just swiped left a ‘maybe’!  Oh well, you continue compulsively worsening your tinderitis.

You have to wonder… Would you have really picked out your boyfriends or girlfriends if you had come across them on Tinder? Most likely not.

It’s such a commentary on today’s gen. Entitled, expecting immediate results, and ADD-level commitment. Tinder is the epitome of today’s Grass Is Always Greener society. It’s kind of sad, actually.

The app is fun and it definitely delivers what it promises. But after a couple of weeks, and a few numbers exchanged, and ONE super friendly meet… I decided Tinder wasn’t for me. I started to over-think it, see the bigger picture, and it cheapened the experience of making a connection with someone. So I quit that bitch. Bye Felicia.

And then I got a cat, my new obsession. Now I can never die alone!

I think I’m doing a really good job embracing the single life, don’t you?

Featured photo credit: Denis Bocquet, Flickr CC.