Silence

Hi from my sickbed.

After arriving at my office early this morning, my co-workers told me to leave immediately. They claimed I looked like I was either hungover, half dead, or both. Truth is, these days, I don’t have enough “fun” to be hungover anymore.

So here I lay ill. And for the first time in months, I’ve actually had time to think about things other than my job or networking or being funny or being adept in social situations (i.e. not drooling on my own shirt when I’m feeling relaxed in public places).

You may wonder what I’m thinking about. You may not. But either way, I’m going to tell you.

All I can think about is dating and the disappointments that come with it.

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I’m A Terrible Sexter

This is generally how sexting goes for me:

clothes

I don’t find it sexy at all, especially when an absolute stranger wants to engage in textual acts with me.

The most intense sexting experience I’ve ever had was in the summer of 2012. I had just returned from my annual trip to Outside Lands, a music festival in San Francisco. A short and tattooed Los Angeles native somehow got a phone number out of me and proceeded to text me when I got home to LA, where I was spending the summer before my senior year at Penn.

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Missed Calls

I have a serious problem. So far, it hasn’t been treatable and I have yet to find someone who hasn’t had a similar issue at some point in his or her life as a cell phone owner.

The problem is talking on the phone.

My problem has gotten so bad that my recent call records often look something like this:

missed calls

Mom and Dad are a safe bet. I’ll answer their calls because I know what to expect. But unknown numbers? No. Friends? Oftentimes no, mainly because I’m worried they’re calling 1) to give me terrible news or 2) to give me amazing news about something that has happened to them that will make me feel shitty about my own single, jobless life.

It sounds dumb. It is dumb. But I can’t seem to get past my fear of why someone may be calling me. Texts are often meaningless. Casual checking in or making plans are what texts are for. But calls have become serious. Unless it’s my parents or my grandma – who refuses to learn to text but has finally grasped the idea of sending emails (hallelujah) – on the other end of the call, I know that the caller has something important to say. And usually I just don’t want to hear it. So I ignore it. Because I’m the worst.

What does this have to do with online dating, you ask? A lot. Moving from sending messages online to mobile interaction has become a real-life problem. Since the start of my little dating project, every dude who has gotten my digits has been a valiant texter. No callers here. Until one guy – the one I actually want to hear from – started calling. He’s not a texter at all. And it is terrifying. Every time he calls, I worry that he’s calling to say he doesn’t want to see me again. Because I am insane. But nope. He just doesn’t text. And it’s kinda nice. But also kinda scary,  because of my insanity and all.

I’m starting to get over my refusal to answer the phone, though. I’ve been practicing. Proof is below.

IMG_6119

So what if I’ve only talked to my parents, brother, and aunt in the last week. It’s something. And I am proud of my ability to talk to more people voice-to-voice. Chivalry isn’t dead! We should talk on the phone more often. Call me to force me to practice. Really. I need all the help I can get. It may be what breaks my weirdo phone phobia. I promise I’ll try to answer when you call, rather than throw my phone on the floor and cower in fear, as if it’s about to detonate.

Maybe.

Oops, I’m Dumb

Ben seemed like a really cool guy. He’s getting his MBA at USC and did Teach for America in Nevada. And he’s attractive! Jackpot. I was excited when he asked for my number. Unfortunately for Ben, he texted me a (very sweet) message while I was on a flight from Philly to Dallas. While on my layover from Dallas to LA, I texted him the following:

image

Obviously, this is a terrible reply. To be fair, I was running on very little sleep from a weekend visiting my alma mater. Sadly, after texting him again to make a big joke out of how awkward I am, I still haven’t heard back from him. I realize this is because I texted him the word “howdy” and he didn’t know I was using it ironically. Because I forgot he doesn’t actually know me. Such a short text can cause so much shame.

I knew I hated Texas.

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