A woman I’ll call The Chewer (it’ll make sense soon) and I first messaged each other shortly after things ended with The Teacher over a two months ago. We hit it off as she was about to relocate to my town, and had attended the same university. We decided to meet for drinks after she finally moved up and got settled in. Before we got to that point though, I started going out with a few other women and wanted to see where these potential relationships went. I messaged The Chewer and she thanked me for my honesty and I went about my way.
As it turned out, most of these dates were ho-hum and never amounted to much of anything. I did briefly hit it off with The Marathoner but that ended as quickly as it started. So, my schedule suddenly freed up, I decided to message The Chewer to see if she was still interested in getting a drink. She was so we planned to meet after work two weeks ago (shortly before I went out with The Lawyer). Keep reading »
Life is full of surprises: maybe you get pregnant without trying, win the lottery, find faith or cheat death. Other times, it’s the small, simple unexpectancies (I’m aware that “unexpectancies” isn’t a real word, but it should be) that make all the difference. Over the last few weeks, Baby Face has been my pleasant “unexpectancy.”
Having reconnected after five (or is it six?) years without a trace of contact, Baby Face and I have been spending a lot of time catching up, becoming reacquainted and starting back at square one. A lot has changed since our reckless beer-funneling college days, and not just because we’ve graduated to fancy craft beer and real glassware. Back in the day, Baby Face and I were friends, but we were never confess-your-deepest-secrets, share-your-embarrassing-stories kinds of friends. Last week, I was able to see Baby Face twice—once for lunch in the city and once for dinner and drinks at my place, where we were able to really talk and get to know each other, sweatpants on, makeup off and all. Keep reading »
Most people have sex in the pedestrian enclaves of their bedroom, on a Wednesday night, after prime-time television but before “The Daily Show.” It’s a simple affair, but it’s beautiful, because it works. The bedroom is a safe space with ALL the creature comforts you want when you’re doing it: clean sheets, water in plentiful abundance, all the lube you’d ever need, and at the end of everything, a bathroom you can scurry to when the deed is done so you don’t get a bladder or yeast infection. For most, this kind of sexual adventurousness is fine. There are some, however, that comb this earth, armed with a sexual bucket list, intent on doing it in any space two people can feasibly fit. If you find yourself with one of these sexual Lewis and Clarks, be prepared. Arm yourself with this list of places to have sex, ranked from best to worst, and be ready to face whatever challenge they’ve got in mind head on. Keep reading »
Yesterday, comedian and talk show host Steve Harvey announced he was launching his own dating website. The site, Delightful, is a joint venture with OKCupid and Tinder owner IAC. Harvey promises it will help women become more “dateable,” so they can achieve the ultimate goal of finding a husband.
Yikes. Keep reading »
Most of us tend to portray a glossed over picture of our lives online. We cherry pick what we share and make sure our lives look like the best thing since sliced bread. With online dating, things are no different. We’re trying to present the best picture of ourselves as possible so we leave some things out and stretch the truth with others.
For instance, I claim to be really good at playing the bass guitar. This used to be true, but now less so. I leave out what many consider a red flag, that my best friend is a woman. I’m an inch taller online as well. The pictures I posted vary in age from being a week old to several years old but I look the same. Overall, it’s a pretty accurate depiction of me and, to me, it’s an acceptable level of massaging the truth. Some individuals, though, take significantly more liberties with the truth. Keep reading »
The Twitter is abuzz about this Time article that simultaneously paints men’s attitudes about not dating women in their 30s as “caveman-era,” then goes on to uncritically give voice to a whole other set of stereotypes about women in their 30s by asking men why they do date tricenarians, as if the entire body of women aged 30 to 39 have had the same life experiences, look the same way, act the same way, are at the same level of emotional maturity, espouse the same attitudes, want the same things. As if women go from 29 one day to 30 the next and are magically POOF!ed into a whole new being, and these artificial lines we draw between one set of women and another are actually real. As if we aren’t all very different individuals who are given, in the very grand scheme of things, an arbitrary number to attach to ourselves that has to do with our planet’s relative position to the sun. Keep reading »