Recently, I made an epic life choice and returned once more to the single market, which, as it so happens, teams with desperate, clingy and downright strange individuals of both sexes. I was abhorrently new to this entire ordeal, having been in two consecutive long-term relationships for nearly eight years and so downright serious about both of them I never spared a thought to what it might be like to be “in the game” again.
Well, it is not for the faint-hearted, and if I wasn’t sure of who I am and what I’ve become, I don’t think I would have lasted as long as I have. I think it is all too easy to “settle” for someone who is not quite your fit rather than grit your teeth and roll with the punches of being alone, a problem that is expounded by our insatiable desire to devour the media’s rather warped portrayal on both love and relationships. Another side to this which also brings about countless problems on the dating scale is body image- something which I do not have, at all.
I can only aim to make my accounts of what I’ve experienced as truthful (and humorous) as possible. As such, I intend to be offensive, cynical and outright cantankerous at times. Oh, and sex. There will be a lot of analysis of this because, well, isn’t that what it’s all about? But don’t worry, those who have contributed to my findings will remain anonymous and those that know me (family, friends…?), well… I’m going to be honest here and say I am going to use words like “fuck”, “cock”, and “lady clam” probably as often as I like, so read at your own discretion. Hey, nobody’s forcing you, right?
So, in summation to the start of this blog, these are my personal experiences and yes, unsurprisingly I am still single and, you will no doubt find, emotionally fucked.
I’m not sure how one is supposed to meet a decent bachelor in today’s age. I certainly wouldn’t consider anything I picked up at the local pub worth anything marginally serious except for an hour long session of bumping uglies before booting him out so I could enjoy the comfort of my double bed to myself (who am I kidding here? A big bed SUCKS without something furry and manly to cuddle, albeit you’d have to want it to be in there with you- which is what it all comes down to, doesn’t it?).
I was quick to hop onto the online dating bandwagon- everyone was doing it! My sister and my two cousins had all met their SO’s online and were now living out their happily-ever-afters, surely the same would happen to me? The path to self-discovery, I was soon to discover, is laced with toothlessness, weird smells, and small appendages.
I made my profile, chose a few select photos that really did capture my good sides, and I was sure to be as honest as I could be, including things like; “I’m overweight and clumsy, an outright mess, I swear like a fishwife etc,” because it just didn’t seem right that here I was putting myself out there in hopes of finding my own prince charming when he should damn right know what sort of mess he would welcome into his life. Well, I sort of (naively) assumed that the same courtesy would be bestowed upon myself. Alas, how wrong I was soon to be proven.
To date, I have compiled these criteria that have to be met before I will consider meeting a boy from an online dating site:
1. A boy who isn’t giving me a toothy grin in his profile picture probably has a poor attitude towards basic oral hygiene. Avoid at all costs.
2. Deduct two inches from any stated height (this isn’t vitally important as I dated a boy who was brutally honest about himself and sits a whole inch shorter than me. However, it is always a shock when one of these bright-eyed lads states that he is a whopping 6’4” and upon meeting he stands an entire foot shorter than yourself, which leads me to believe that they are seriously deluded or merely unawares about the workings of the foot and inches measurement system, both of which are entirely plausible).
3. No matter how pretty, boys who take selfies of themselves in bathroom mirrors with their shirts off are not looking for anything more serious than a quick fuck. Also, chances are you will get an unflattering picture of their penis the moment numbers are exchanged.
4. Boys who write like this: Hy, hw u? I lyk ur pp. No. Jesus, no. Some basic grasp of foundational literacy is compulsory. Ah, wait. I used punctuation marks. Alright, fine. I may have given that guy a chance as he displayed the correct usage of both the comma and question mark, but you get the idea.
5. Boys who write in the “What are you looking for” section of their profile: a girl who looks after herself– don’t give two shits about how smart, successful or independent you are. They want a looker.
Now that that’s all out of the way, I’ll begin with my first official “date”.