How to Completely Half-Ass an Important Conversation


As many of you might have guessed from my last post, I had recently been contemplating making things official with the guy I’ve been dating for the past month or so. (Woah, exciting!) As a bit of a recap, over the course of the past five months I’ve gone from being depressingly single after being abandoned without explanation to going on three dates with three different guys in a single weekend to becoming happily monogamous with someone I really like. That seems like a natural-ish progression of events, I suppose.

Anyway, that’s not really my point here. My point is that for the past week or so, I’d been thinking about the inevitable conversation that I would have to initiate in order to state my intentions that I had no desire to see anyone else and how I hoped that he didn’t either.

That’s kind of a difficult conversation, especially if:

  • You’re the type of person who gets nervous or anxious about simple things, such as scheduling a doctor’s appointment over the phone or not submitting your taxes properly.
  • You’ve already talked about the elephant in the room: why you’re both online dating, the craziest online date you’ve been on, how many relationships you’ve been in, etc.
  • It appears from every angle (how much time you spend together or how “dates” have smoothly transitioned into “hanging out and staying over”)  that no conversation is needed, despite the presence of social norms which allow you to see other people until you’ve strictly made it official.

I think I go against the grain in that once I go on a few dates with a guy I like, I don’t actively try to see or meet other people, in the hopes that dates will transition into a relationship. If I wanted to pursue other options, I would — but I never do.

I thought about ways I could begin the conversation (“So, I was thinking about deleting my OkCupid account…” or “I’ve been assuming we’re exclusive, I hope I’m right…?”), mulled the details of the situation over and over (and over) again, picked friends’ brains about what I should do, agonized and made myself nervous, and last night finally decided to man up and do it. Continue reading

On Making Things “Facebook Official”


ImageThe whole idea of “Facebook official” quite frankly pisses me off. Like, when did this become a thing? Before 2004, or whenever Mark Zuckerberg began his plot for total world domination, being superpublicly “in a relationship” with someone didn’t really exist outside of your closest group of friends (and family, of course), unless you had a ring on your finger. Right? Am I right?

But now, when you make things official with someone — which I’m fairly certain I’m about to do (!) — there’s the extra layer of expected official-ness. The other elephant in the room: should we put it on Facebook? (Is that a question you ask?) I’ve only ever been Facebook official with two people since I joined in 2006; the first time, I made my high school boyfriend join Facebook specifically for that purpose. The second (and most recent) time, I got wasted on my birthday (as all responsible 22-year-olds do) and demanded that the guy I had been on 4 dates with ask me to be his girlfriend. After a bit of cajoling (signs it’s not going to work out: THERE SHOULD BE NO CAJOLING), he agreed. I mean, I had no idea what I was doing, but at the time it seemed like the right next step (hint: it wasn’t).

We didn’t talk about Facebook. A day later, I changed my status to “in a relationship” because after having “The Talk” with him, I couldn’t list that I was single on my page and feel like I was being completely honest about it. I didn’t request to be in one with him, because I’m a firm believer in letting guys do whatever they’re comfortable with regarding awkward social standards such as these, but he linked our statuses together a few days later.

10 days later, he decided it wasn’t a good idea for us to date anymore.

Well, great. Now that we’ve made our relationship status public for all of Facebook to see, we have to just as publicly remove it. 10 days? Just 10 days? Honestly, my first thought when I realized I had to take it off my profile was: gosh, what are people going to think?

Since then, I’ve been rather turned off to Facebook relationships. Making things official among the two of you as a couple — necessary, I know. Telling your friends — sure. Putting it on Facebook? I still don’t know how I feel about it. The times that I’ve had it up there, I’ve enjoyed seeing it there, but I think it might be for the wrong reasons. If I’m happy, why do I have to validate my happiness with everyone else? Why does more and more of my private life end up in the public eye, ready to be judged? Just some food for thought.

What do you guys think?

Things That Happen When You Start Dating Someone You Actually Like


So, confession. There’s this guy (yeah, I know right?) I started talking to him a few weeks ago and I’m finding that I like him quite a bit. He took me out for dinner two weeks ago, and then again for drinks on Valentine’s Day. On Friday, we watched movies and drank wine at his place, and the next night we cuddled and watched SNL. Last night, we cooked homemade tomato sauce and pasta. He is educated, chivalrous, nice, attractive, nerdy, good at conversation, and currently defying all of my expectations for meeting someone on the Internet. Seriously.

As a result of meeting and starting to get to know him for the past two weeks, here are some recent trends that I’ve noticed in my life:

  1. I’ve stopped logging on to OkCupid, which means I have very little to blog about unless I actually try to think of good topics — which I haven’t been doing
  2. I’ve started paying more attention to my phone and less attention to my blog stats
  3. My cat is grumpier and more senile than ever, probably because I’m never in my apartment anymore
  4. I often find myself with a huge grin on my face at the most random times of the day
  5. Every cute song ever written by anyone suddenly applies to my life

Lessons Learned Today:

  • Dating can be fun, when it’s with someone you can actually tolerate have a ton of things in common with and really enjoy being around
  • My odds for finding something legitimate on an online dating site are currently: 1/11

Why I Prefer Nerdy Men

Whenever one of my best friends and I discuss our dating lives, we laugh about how we have the complete opposite taste in men. Her dates with her boyfriend involve fixing his car, going for rides on his tractor, and learning how to shoot his gun; I tend to go for guys who wear cardigans and sweaters, love coffee, and geek out over the latest tech. She dates guys who like to hunt, fish, and get dirty; I date boys that like cats, foreign films, and cuddling. I could go on, but you get the idea.

Last week, she wrote a guest post about why she wants a manly man (which was really quite amusing, actually, since a bunch of people initially thought I wrote it) so here is my response to that (which was in the works since I told her to write hers). Continue reading

3 Days, 3 Dates, 3 Dudes. Or as I like to say, efficient.

Admittedly, I’m somewhat of an online dating whore. I don’t do this on purpose. I mean, I haven’t even been doing this for that long (October, guys). The first couple of weeks everyone was interested in me, and rightfully so, dammit! I’m considered awesome in the world of online dating, and by that I mean I’m not fat, divorced with a kid, a chain smoker who works at a gas station, or need to be committed to a mental hospital because I’m super cray cray. Guys should be flocking to me, just sayin’. But lately, I’ve hit a bit of a dry spell — the only messages I’ve been getting as of late are from 25-year-old men who probably flunked the 9th grade and flaunt their tractor-driving skills on their profile. (Guess where I live. Just do it.)

Whenever I find myself in an online dating dry spell, I tend to message quite a few more people than I normally would, just to raise my odds of actually meeting someone normal. And that’s how I got around to scheduling 3 dates with 3 different guys—all in one weekend. Continue reading