My 100th Post and the Things I’ve Learned Thus Far

This project has gone on for a few months now and thus, I feel like I should express the things I’ve learned through this weird and sad little journey. I am only telling you these things to help you. Take them as a warning if you decide to take the plunge into the online dating world. I, of course, think it gives you many more options when it comes to meeting people that you may not otherwise have come across. However, most of these people are psychos or recluses or sex fiends. But now you can go in saying you were warned.

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A Lesson For The Crazies

Naturally, online dating brings out the psychos of the world. I’m sure they have some redeeming qualities somewhere deep inside themselves but sometimes they’re just too much to handle. Due to my “Always Swipe Right” rule on Tinder, I’ve come across some pretty agressive crazies. Below is my favorite psycho suitor. And by favorite I really mean, below is a guy who should probably be in serious therapy. And that is not a knock on therapy – I think everyone should go. It rocks.


…And then he blocked me.

I think all men (and women, and people who don’t associate themselves with a specific gender, and horses, and radishes, and everyone else) should be aware of this: These kind of messages are the least attractive thing one can ever receive. They make you look like a desperate crazy person (which we all are – most of us just know how to hide it at first) and they also serve to insult me. They’re aggressive and they’re rude. I will say, though, that the Easter Island *block* head was a nice touch. Unfortunately, Emojis can’t save you after such an erratic and uncalled for tirade.

While I don’t feel bad for ignoring this guy’s questions and pleas, I do feel bad for him as a human being. Dude wants attention and isn’t getting it. The thing is, someone needs to teach him the right way to approach a person, even on a stupid app like Tinder. I just absolutely refuse to be that person. Let his mom do it.

Ready for the kicker here? Just one day later, I checked my visitors on Ok Cupid. Guess who stopped by?

I realize this post may seem mean. I don’t intend for it to be that way. Insecurities and the need for attention and love are a part of life. However, I can’t help but be intrigued by this gent’s way of going about remedying his lonely situation. The verbosity of his messages and his automatic insistance that I’m ignoring him (some people just don’t check Tinder! Although I’ll admit I was ignoring him out of fear) serve as a repellent. Forget ever finding someone who will be attracted to anything of this sort. If he continues on this path, our buddy may be on the self-love train for a lot longer.

I still think this guy is one of the crazies. But as I’ve said before, we all are in our own way. I just believe messages like this should be a teaching tool. Consider this your lesson from me. Don’t show your crazy in this format, and don’t think a cute Emoji can save you from yourself.

I hope you find what you’re looking for, Tinder Friend. In the meantime, thank you for blocking me.

NOTE: The subject of this post found it and has requested his name be redacted. All edits made are per his request.



Much like Snapchat Suitor Cole, Jay was a potential lover that I’d never actually met. It all started out with a message. Then a few more. Eventually, he asked for my number and I obliged. At first glance, Jay seemed perfectly suitable as a human and more importantly as a date. He went to a great college (one that I was rudely rejected from in my senior year of high school) and he was on the swim team there. Everyone knows abs are a serious plus and make terrible men seem kind of okay. This was almost one of those situations.

Knowing that he was well educated and seemed like a nice guy, I told Jay I’d meet him for a casual dinner at a nearby Farmers Market. He insisted on picking me up at my house and taking me there, rather than meet. I thought that was pushy. I’m not trying to give out my address to any old dude. Feeling a little turned off but still attracted to his potential swimmer’s body, I did what any modern gal in the online dating game would do before giving him the go-ahead. I googled him. 

While Google yields fine results about sports accomplishments and scholarships, the ultimate prize is to find a man with a Facebook page that’s open to the public. This should be a turn-off, as only idiots have their Facebook profiles completely available to everyone with Internet access. Jay is one of those idiots, though. And this leads to why we never ended up meeting.

While doing some Facebook sleuthing (stalking sounds bad), I saw that one of my closest friends in LA was a mutual friend. Obviously I texted him and asked his thoughts on this Jay character.

His reply: “We worked together. I wasn’t the biggest fan of his. But hopefully he’s matured since I knew him.”

I knew this was my friend’s kind and considerate way of saying he’s horrible. I confirmed later when I told him that Jay was getting on my nerves with his persistent texting.

His reply: “He’s cocky AND annoying. But maybe he’s your soulmate. I can’t be responsible for making any decisions for you.”

This friend of mine will be very excited to read the following assessment of him and it may get me into trouble later, but I’m gonna say it anyway: he is almost always right. And because of that, I told Jay I was too busy for a potential relationship. I proceeded to delete his number.

This all happened in early September.

Fast forward to two days ago. I had just arrived at LAX after a long flight back from a visit home to Philadelphia. Curiously, while in flight, I’d received a text from an unfamiliar number. The conversation proceeded as follows:




WHAT?! No one ever just comes back like that, months later. Only crazy people do that. Or desperate people. Or people who don’t realize that I am both crazy and desperate and that they should stay away from me.

While I told a lil fib to get him off my back (I’m not exactly dating someone – just currently going on dates with a guy I like), I worry this will happen again in two more months. I’m just waiting for a text asking me if this “boyfriend” of mine and I have broken up yet, and if I’d like to be picked up for dinner at the Farmers Market.

While I’ve never met Jay and don’t really plan to, I feel guilty for rejecting him. It’s true that I’m not currently looking to date anyone beyond the guy I’ve been hanging out with lately. I swear I’m not lying about that. But I guess this nagging guilt will always come with rejecting someone who doesn’t know that my friend told me he sucks and I agreed. Really, the kid’s only crime was having a mutual friend with me on social media.

Moral of the story? Keep your Facebook profiles private, guys. Otherwise it leads to a date rejection. And a post about you on my blog. 

Sorry, Jay.

So…you’re saying you’re attracted to crustaceans…?


Tryna offer me a job? I need one, so….


Leigh seemed too perfect. A 6 foot 4 mountain man, Leigh was studying for his masters in neuroscience at USC. I was immediately smitten. After a few messages about nature and mountains we’ve climbed, Leigh asked me to coffee. I put on makeup for the event. That’s a big deal for me. 

We chatted for a couple hours. He didn’t buy my coffee. Is that awkward? Should I expect guys to do that? Whatever.

I got in the car to drive home and was pretty sure I’d fallen in love. I was planning our wedding in my head as I sped back toward West Hollywood. I told my roommate that I’d finally had the perfect date.

Clearly, Leigh didn’t feel that way. I texted him to thank him for the date. No response. A few days later, I asked him if he wanted to go to a concert at a venue we both wanted to check out. No answer. This bastard was ghosting me (ghosting: the act of completely disappearing after a date). I couldn’t believe it. I had already married him in my head and now I’m going through an imaginary divorce. In case you’re wondering why I was so into Leigh after one meeting and so devastated to be ghosted, here’s his photo.

Rejection aside, I’d still jump him. Oooooof.


Patrick was one of the first guys I messaged with who seemed really quirky and fun. We wrote to each other for a couple weeks before we decided to meet for drinks. Topics ranged from siamese twins to the arts. I was actually excited to meet him. Plus, his photo wasn’t so bad either. (Check the proof below).

Truth be told, I shouldn’t have fallen for that Instagram filter. When I went to meet Patrick for drinks, I was excited to see that he was tall and wearing a flannel. I was not excited to hug him hello and feel his man-boobs against my body. Mean? Yes. But also very surprising. Have you ever been caught off guard like that? I hadn’t. He had to have been an A-cup. 

Increasingly disinterested in my date, I made friends with an older and married gay couple at the bar. They fed me a marshmallow and thought I was so charming. Patrick was impressed. I wanted to take both of these gray-haired gay men home with me. This is just further proof that I am a homosexual male. 

I bought a drink and we talked. Mostly about siamese twins. Again. He seems quite fascinated. I couldn’t really carry a conversation about conjoined babies past what I’d already said in our online messaging, so I bid him adieu after an appropriate amount of time (as in, “I gave him a chance but now I need to say goodbye to Patrick and his girlish rack”). 

I never heard from Patrick again. I was okay with that. That is, until he texted me three weeks later to ask if I got home safely. Yes, really. I could have died on the way home and he wouldn’t have known. I told him this. He said, “Yeah, I guess I turned the three-day rule into the three-week rule.” Sucks, man.


About a week into my Ok Cupid adventure, I was receiving some pretty boring messages. My inbox was full of “Hi”, “What’s Up”, and “How you doin’?” But many of the men behind these lame quips were far older than me, far shorter than me, or unclothed. Needless to say, they didn’t receive responses back from me.

That is, until Daniel messaged me. I wish I could tell you why I replied but honestly I have no idea. He seemed attractive and interesting. He wanted to be a writer and moved from Alabama to LA to pursue his dream. He was a soccer player in college and clocked in at 6 foot 3. What’s not to like? Perhaps his first message (below). But I decided to ignore that fact.

“Pretty hot”? Obviously my careful photo selection paid off! 

Daniel asked me to hang out on Labor Day. I headed down to Santa Monica to meet him at a bar. We spent a long time chatting and playing Quizzo (they call it bar trivia here. Alrighty.) It was technically my first real date so I did my best to be, um, flirty. A tap on the arm and a giggle here and there. I even wore a dress. But conversation got stale and when Daniel remarked that my tattoo seemed dumb, I knew it wasn’t a love connection. Daniel didn’t agree though. We never saw each other again but he continues to text me months later. Usually drunk. Sometimes sober. I started to think he was going to stalk me down and kill me (a la Craigslist Killer) so I tried to disappear for a while. Sometimes I’ll respond, though. I’m not THAT mean of a person.

While I don’t plan to see him again and I still think he might murder me, I’m proud to say a boy finally bought me a cheeseburger. I’m totally dating! 


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