New Year’s Wishes . . .

This year has been long. It’s been full of struggles, darkness, and heartache that I had never anticipated, but it’s my hope that this year will be better. I’m at least going to make sure it starts out the all my New Year Eves should have.

This year I’m not going to spend the night chasing after a guy; I’m going to spend the New Year with friends. As much as I like Santa and that he is not called Satan yet, I know my friends are going to be there for more than fleeting moments in my life. I want to spend the night celebrating being young, free, and healthy. It’s going to be the best New Years Eve yet.

I’d like to start this year with a wish or at least something that is much more hopeful than resolutions that I will give up on after a few weeks. This year I wish that my friends and family will be happy, healthy, and find contentment in all things big and small. I also wish this for myself.

Thank you all for reading. I hope all your New Year wishes come true.

Resolutions . . .

Tis the season for gift-giving, family, and eggnog, but there are much more sinister things underlying this time of year.  With Christmas quickly passing, it opens the gate for New Years Eve (my favorite holiday).  The unfortunate side effect of my favorite holiday is New Year’s resolutions.  I only say that because I’m pretty sure I’ve never really followed through on any of the ones I have made in the last twenty-some years.  Actually, I’m positive I haven’t followed through on any of them.

I still make these silly resolutions this year.  I’m already trying to come up with some arbitrary changes I would like to make in my life this year.  I never make really meaningful changes because I would hate to disappoint myself.

 

Resolutions:

Work out more often.

I know the best resolutions have a clearly defined goal and timeline to hold one accountable for progress.  This one is intentionally vague.  Really it should probably say:  I will work out more than my shoddy record of one to two times a week on a good week.  Again, I don’t want to disappoint myself when I “forget” to work out for a week or two because I didn’t want to get up early.

 

Eat healthier.

This is another intentionally vague resolution.  I should have probably resolved to eat out less, eat more fruits and vegetables, and eat less processed foods, but I really don’t want to take these resolutions too far.  I’d probably be happy eating out one time less during the week.  I should probably also take a multivitamin.

Drink better alcohol.

This is where the resolutions start to get so much more exciting and honest and achievable.  I’ve decided that I’m sick of drinking well vodkas and the other cheap shit that I have been consuming.  My unfortunate problem with this resolution is that I have top shelf tastes on a tap/well budget.  I’m sure if I ate healthier (actually cooked myself food a few times a week) I would be able to have top shelf tastes on my budget.

 

Take better care of myself.

In addition to trying to eat better and exercise more, I’m going to start treating myself the way I should be treated.  Massages, manicures, and pedicures go a long way in helping me relax and restore.  I also need to go get my hair cut and colored.  These little fixes are all I need to feel better and motivate myself to start taking care of myself.

 

Be grateful for all the things I have in my life.

I sometimes get hung up on all these unachievable things in my life.  I also tend to forget to tell people just how much they mean to me.  I’ve gotten better at telling my close friends that they mean the world to me.  I’m going to start enjoying the present rather than fixating on the future.

 

I keep telling myself that this year will be different than last year.  This time, I know that’s the truth.  I’m looking forward to all the new adventures this year will bring.

Merry Christmas!

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa

I make fun of my horrible dates to a degree that is probably a little humiliating to the men involved, which explains all the nicknames that give a sense of thinly veiled anonymity.  I rarely talk about the good dates, which normally are by far less interesting and give the impression that I am a closet optimist.  I’m going to stray from my normal rules, regulations and cynicism to talk about a good date.

I’m not a religious person, which is easily garnered from the inappropriate banter and numerous references to vodka and other spirits.  I’m not particularly into celebrating the holidays with much more than work and watching the Packer game on Christmas Day.  Being that I’m over a thousand miles from my nearest family members, the day is just another day.   Thus, the last few weeks have been my standard work, eat, and drink schedule, which has been minimally altered by the holiday season.

I’ve recently met Santa (yes, Virginia, there is a Santa).  I let him choose his nickname solely on the basis of good behavior and that it can easily be changed to Satan without much effort if ever needed.  Everyone else has been subjected to initials or to my own devices, which have yielded Napalm and Rapist.  The fact that I’m letting the guy choose his nickname is a bigger deal than I would ever imagine letting on.

I’ve expressed my numerous frustrations with the online dating process.  My expectations of finding someone that I want to hang out with were pretty low.  Really, I was starting to feel silly for spending money for a computer to guess what I want to date.  This is the part where Santa comes into the picture.

My rules for dating are probably significantly different than those of normal people.

1. Always valet
2. The first few dates should be in public places, which is a live and learn lesson courtesy of Rapist
3. Limit personal information to things that could easily be Googled for an answer
4. Try to figure out the pathology within three dates and decide if I want to deal with it

My friends have come up their own rules for what/who I should date.  There’s are:

1. Date men you aren’t instinctually attracted to.  Interpretation:  This is the anti-asshole rule.  My ability to find an asshole in a sea of fantastic, nice guys is rather uncanny.
2. Date someone that treats you well and is courteous.  Interpretation:  Just a rephrasing of the anti-asshole rule.
3. Date someone who has the mental capacity to keep you stimulated.  Interpretation:  Please don’t drag a dumbass into the fold.  Also, find someone that you (and us) can have intelligent conversation with.  Find someone with the same competitive streak you have.
4. Date someone that has similar goals to your own.  Interpretation: Date someone with ambition.  Try not to find people with only self-interest in mind.  Try to find someone that will travel with you, not just along side you.

The rest of their rules are just variations on the anti-asshole clause.

These were ever so discreetly texted to me just prior to my first date with Santa.  I’m assuming RJ was expecting me to fall into my habit of dating men solely based on looks and tolerating unacceptable behavior.

So back to Santa . . .

The first date with Santa exceeded my expectations, which have been brutally low lately (AKA must be able to speak and must appear similar to or better than their picture.  Anything else is bonus).  He was interesting and well spoken.  He was well dressed and polite.  I also wasn’t barraged with text messages, which indicated that he had a life (AKA I have a life and you’ll be lucky to get some of my time).  Santa was also appropriately aggressive, which meant I could (finally) take the passenger seat and see where it leads.  These are the single most attractive things that a man can do on a first date.

In the interim between dates one and two, I barely heard from him, which indicates that he has a job and has friends.  It also screams that he’s not going to be needy or need to be entertained.  I have so much more respect for someone that can prove to me that he’s not going to roll over on command (AKA Santa has a backbone).

By date two, I had broken all my rules, but I had respected my friends’ rules.  For once, I’m not really interested in racing to psychoanalyze and diagnose any issues/pathology.  I’m finally taking some of my own advice and approaching dating without agendas or expectations.  I’m also looking forward to seeing much more of Santa.

Point of the anti-climactic story about Santa:  I’m going to start taking my friends’ advice more often.

The Girl Code Revisited . . .

There was some confusion with my previous post about the girl code.  To clarify, friends should stick together.  These can be friends of either sex.  Those friendships are far too valuable to be compromised over a relationship.  These statements should not be used to extrapolate that my only goal in life is to be a spinster with awesome friends.

My match needs to be someone that is ultimately my best friend and someone that is accepted by my friends.  If my friends have any qualms, it’s game over for that relationship.  That’s primarily because I know I don’t always think too clearly when in lust or love.  My friends have the ability to look at the relationship from an outsiders’ standpoint.  They have always been the one to point out if a guy treats me well or if he is a douche (douche is one of the nicer terms that they have used).  I love that they are straightforward enough to call out relationships that aren’t worth my time, despite the fact they sometimes do this after the relationship has ended.

I’m pretty sure there is a guy out there that will be able to be my best friend and a friend to my friends.  That’s what I’m looking for.  I just get to be a spinster with awesome friends in the process.

The best support system anyone could ever ask for.

I put out the call for what rules other girls live by.  As always, my friends came through with flying colors.  Even my guy friends had to put their two cents in, which always provides a unique perspective into minds that I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand.  The following is a rough, rough and incomplete draft of the Girl Code.

Me:  Friends before boyfriends.

I’ve made the mistake of putting romantic relationships before my enduring, close friendships.  If the boyfriend is “the one,” he will be my best friend and will be one of those enduring, close friendships.

CP:  Never hook up/date/covet your friend’s boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, brother, etc.

This is just never a good idea.  Like I’ve mentioned in previous posts, women have deeper emotional connections than men.  Unfortunately, these emotional connections don’t always end when the relationship ends.  For a friend to mess with any of those deep emotional connections is intolerable.   If someone does this to you, THEY ARE NOT YOUR FRIEND.

RJ pointed out the most men operate under a two week rule.  Two weeks after the demise of a relationship, the friend’s ex-girlfriend is considered datable by anyone in the group or on earth for that matter.  This confuses me because I’m pretty sure I don’t want my any of my friends’ sloppy-seconds.  It also seems a little tacky.  Must be a boy thing.

CF:  A true friend is going to be there with ice cream, vodka, tissues, and a shoulder to cry on even if it’s 2 am and snowing outside.

When she texted me this, I thought of all the times that she’s been at my doorstep with ice cream and vodka in hand (I know . . . don’t judge).  A true friend knows if you need alcohol, ice cream, a good cry or all of the above and is more than happy to indulge you.

SC:  A good friend will let you know if your bra strap is showing, makeup is too much, or date is flirting with other girls.  A good friend (male or female) is always tactfully honest.

SC is my optimist.  She also reminds me a lot of Jackie O in that she is always put together and she carries herself with so much dignity and grace (it’s a little amazing that she hangs out with us).  She’s always been the one to delicately point out our faults with a quiet, straightforward comment (she’s asked me if I really want to wear that more than once).  I, for the record, always changed my clothes after she asked.

After hours of editing and daydreaming, I realized most of the code is how to be a good friend.  It’s about knowing where your loyalties lie and how to treat people with respect and care.  Really, that’s probably the greatest lesson and skill that we can take away from our time on earth.

It’s called a vanity plate because it’s vain . . .

My newest rant comes courtesy of a fantastic Midwestern transplant that I met at Starbucks.  Having come from a similar upbringing, we bonded right away over how we found ourselves in Texas.  She had many of the similar likes and dislikes that I did.  I have to thank my new friend for the inspiration for this rant.

I’ve recently become a Texan via getting a Texas license plate and registration.  Do I consider myself a Texan?  No, not really, but the people of Texas have adopted me as if it’s truly a tragedy that I was born in Wisconsin, not Texas.  I’m conflicted as to if this is a good thing or not.

I do appreciate that the people of Texas have welcomed me with open arms.  It’s actually been the easiest transition I’ve ever made in my life.  Do I think I’ll be a Texan forever?  Probably not.  There’s a lot of this world to see (AKA I love Texas, but change is also a very therapeutic thing).

There are certain things I really love about Texas:

• Real Mexican food
• Queso from La Duni (Sorry, I’m from Wisconsin.  It’s a genetic thing.)
• Amazing shopping
• Winters that have set the expectation that I will only wear a winter coat for fashion purposes
• The patio culture (AKA By 5 pm on a Friday, I want a drink in my hand)
• Friendly people (AKA Some of the best friends a girl could ever ask for)
• Handsome gentleman callers (AKA Smokin’ hot guys)

Things I’m not certain I will ever embrace about Texas:

• UGLY ASS LICENSE PLATES
• OVERUSE OF VANITY PLATES

These must be in all caps because they are truly offensive.

Seriously, Texas! You can't do better than this!

Please see the example of how the license plates in Texas are extremely ugly.  My style critiques are:  1) Too many colors that clash with the color of numerous cars.  2) Not enough white space.  3) The numbers/lettering just look funny.

I have this on my navy blue car.  I’m lucky that it doesn’t completely clash with my paint job, but I’m still disappointed.  For being one of the most fashionable states, I guess I expected more from the state of Texas.  I guess it could be worse.  New Mexico’s license plates are pretty horrid (no offense to the people of this great state).

While I’m not in love the state issued (AKA cheap) license plates, I refuse to pay extra for a vanity plate.  A vanity plate is called a vanity plate because it means that YOU ARE VAIN.  Sorry, but it’s true.

I’ve been informed that I’m not cool enough for a vanity plate, which was fine by me.  My car was a little insulted, but I’d rather spend that extra money on 4-5 pairs of nice shoes.  I am acutely aware that I’m not the coolest girl on earth, nor do I aspire to be.  I’d really like to be that sweet, cool, girl-next-door kind of girl.  Vain is not my aspiration.

These are called vanity plates because they are vain.

I’ve also been informed that the standard plates “ruin” luxury cars.  My response was okay, I’m sure you can afford to buy your luxury car some therapy to heal its hurt feelings.  Sure, the vanity plates do look nice on “luxury” cars, but does the car really care.  I’m also pretty sure that no one besides the vain one that has purchased the vanity plates will notice that you have vanity plates that make your luxury car feel good about itself.  If people do notice, congratulations, you have found people as vain as yourself (this may or may not be a good thing).

What you write on your vanity plate is also pretty telling of your personality.  Getting a standard license plate number is slightly better than whatever douche thing you think you should label your car with.  I sit at Starbucks to write, so I spend an inordinate amount of time staring out the window.  May personal favorites are: CUL8TR, PLASTDOC, GOOD4U.  This was a relatively short observation period, but the douche that was on display pleasantly surprised me.  You, my vain vanity plate friend, are so much more attractive when you aren’t drawing negative attention to yourself.

Boys, use the extra money you waste on these plates to buy a nice suit jacket.  A nice suit jacket will get you more tail than a vanity plate.  Girls, seriously?!  You don’t want to attract anything that judges you by your vanity plate.  Go buy some nice shoes instead.

Loyalties and the Girl Code

I haven’t been too inspired lately.  It’s mostly because I’ve been in a great mood for an entire week.  This is probably something that is record breaking.  There haven’t been tears or random meltdowns.  I’d like to think of this as my Christmas present to all my friends . . . I’ve been in a great, non-needy mood.

I’ve mentioned JH several times.  She is one of my best friends and one of the most generous people that I have ever met.  She’s also, unfortunately, been through a lot of the same issues I have.  JH in many ways is far wiser than I am.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, we got to talking about falling out of love and how it’s easier for a guy than a girl.  Like all alcohol-fueled conversations, it’s probably one of the most brutally honest conversations that I’ve had in a long time.  This is one of those topics that truly required alcohol to make it remotely palatable.  I would recommend having a glass of wine while reading.

Women are far more emotional then men.  Most women also attach to others in a stronger emotional way than most men ever could.  There’s a sense of pride surrounding our ability to be extremely loyal and close to multiple people in our lives.  That loyalty is for the most part a blind loyalty.

Let me explain:  I have friends from high school and college that I’m still close to.  I love having those relationships in my life.  They add so much value to my life.  My friends could ask nearly anything of me and I would be happy to oblige.  I’m even willing to deal with a degree of betrayal and bullshit to keep them as my friends.  My loyalty is blind to some of the shit that my friends have pulled.  The shit is mostly drama that would never be significant enough to end a relationship.

I’ve let myself bond to significant others like this.  I know JH has also.  Really, most every woman I’ve talked to let’s themself bond like this.  Unfortunately, the bonding occurs within a fairly short duration of time.  Terminating the loyalty and falling out of love at the end of a relationship is the hardest thing to do.

Most women work at relationships, even if they are bad relationships.  We put so much time and effort into what sometimes is a lost cause before figuring we have done everything short of life support and it’s time to terminate the relationship.  We even become emotionally invested in the process of trying to save a relationship.  It’s absolutely fucking exhausting.

The moving on part is the hardest.  Revoking the emotional investment and stopping the irrational parts of our brains from loving takes time.  It’s hard to stop being loyal.  It’s hard to stop loving someone you invested so much time and energy into.  My male friends looked at me funny when I described this to them, so I’m assuming this is a mostly female phenomenon.

There’s some silly rule that says something along the lines of: the time it takes to get over a relationship is equivalent to half to duration of the relationship.  I saw this and thought it was BS.  With great friends and tens of bottles of wine (spaced over an appropriate duration), it’s possible to flip that switch faster.  It’s possible to move on, start dating, start taking care of yourself, and start hanging out with your friends just like you did when you were the hot, awesome, single girl you were before the relationship.

This is where I come back to loyalty and try to make a point.  Girls, our strongest loyalties should be to our friends.  They have been my saving grace over and over the last few months.  They have been what have made me get out of bed, socialize, and get my shit together.  I’m forever grateful to the amazing support system that I have.

Most of my posts have some connections to HIMYM.  This one isn’t going to be any different.  Barney has a Bro Code that documents the rules for being a good wingman/male friend.  I’m starting to write my own Girl Code.

Girl Code Rule #1:  Friends before boyfriends (AKA Know where your deepest loyalties should lie).

Please listen to my new favorite music . . .

I’ve been lazy about writing lately.  That’s because I’ve been out on a ton of little “adventures.”  I have great adventures to recount when the time is appropriate.

I love weekend mornings.  I’ve greeted this lovely morning after a crazy night out with a bloody mary, quesadilla, and Duke basketball.  This is by far one of the best brunch dates that I have ever been on.  Well, it’s not really a date as much as hanging out with a group of guys and drinking (and writing).  I have been described as a “guy’s girl” more than once.

In the last few days, I’ve read three Chelsea Handler books, discovered a whole new genre of rap that I’m somewhat obsessed with, and have caught up on HIMYM.  It’s been an awesome treat.  I also love that most of this can be done from my couch, which has the softest, microplush blanket and two awesome cats.

I want to write about my new music obsession because this guy is from my hometown.  I’m from a small town in Wisconsin that is known for manhole covers (not kidding), paper products, and not much else.  I thank Facebook for giving me a reason to brag about the people that I went to high school with.  It’s not that we haven’t been successful (I know of several classmates that are doctors, lawyers, models, teachers, etc.), it’s just that it’s kind of cool to think that this awesome music is from someone I knew.

I was bored the other night (I know, how is that possible between going out and my indoor activities), so I decided to troll Facebook to see what people are up to.  I’m a little bit of a Facebook voyeur because I’m pretty sure my life is far less exciting than people who can come up with an interesting Facebook update.  Mine are universally lame.

I saw a link to a Hilfiger commercial that said it was music by John Fitz, a guy that I went to high school with.  I was immediately intrigued because I love Hilfiger (those clothes were made for my body) and I’m always about celebrating success from Neenah, WI (Go Rockets).  I clicked on it and decided that this was some awesome shit.

I went to high school with this guy

He does a genre of rap called Do-Wap-Rap.  I’m convinced that this is genius.  I’m all over the board with my music taste.  I have a deep and sincere love for most everything besides country music (too twangy and whiny for me).  My iPod is an eclectic mix of jazz, vocal standards, rap, pop, classic rock, and indie music.  I’m always looking for something new.

John’s music is this awesome mix of dance, rap, and pop (don’t worry, I’m adding the links to his music because you must hear this).  I found myself dancing around my apartment (I have awesome white girl dance moves).  I also played his songs about eighty or ninety times.  The songs are catchy and something that I would love to dance to in a club.  It also evoked awesome memories of home and high school.

 

Strong work, John Fitz.

Check out these links:

http://www.myspace.com/johnfitzmusic

Girl Like U – my favorite new song

Help Me – I can’t wait for his full video

 

 

This is a Christmas Song?

Here’s a little bonus post to celebrate the holidays!

 

Because . . . Baby, it's cold outside

I’m not much of a holiday kind of person.  My job has trained me to look at holidays as just another workday.  For years, I had to work either Christmas or NYE.  My preference was always to work Christmas Eve and Christmas because it wasn’t historically as busy.  I also was never really friendly with my ex-husband’s parents or family, so working was actually a blessing.  NYE was always spent with my ex-husband falling asleep around 10 p.m. and me sitting up with the dogs.  The holidays were always really anti-climactic.

Yesterday, there was awesome banter on Facebook.  It was about Christmas songs.  Well, it was about a particular Christmas song that was featured on a popular show not too long ago.  I guess I never really listened to the words, but they are awesome.  Especially, when you really think about them.

Let’s look at a few verses from “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” by Frank Loesser

Female:  I really can’t stay

Male:  But baby it’s cold outside

Female:  I’ve got to go away

Male:  But baby it’s cold outside

Female:  This evening has been

Male:  Been hoping that you’d drop in

Female:  So very nice

Male:  I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice

Female:  My mother will start worry

Male:  Beautiful, what’s your hurry

Female:  My father will be pacing the floor

Male:  Listen to the fireplace roar

Female:  So really I’d better scurry

Male:  Beautiful, please don’t hurry

 

Analysis:  Clearly, the female would like to go home because it’s cold and her parents are awaiting her arrival (AKA there is something really awesome on TV or this date really was boring as shit).  The male is actively trying to take this poor, delicate woman hostage through coercion.  He also doesn’t ever intend to meet her parents, since he doesn’t give a shit about her getting home on time.

 

Female:  But maybe just a half a drink more

Male:  Put some records on while I pour

Female:  The neighbors might faint

Male:  Baby, it’s bad out there

Female:  Say what’s in this drink

Male:  No cabs to be had out there

Female:  I wish I knew how

Male:  Your eyes are like starlight now

Female:  To break this spell

Male:  I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell

Female:  I ought to say “no, no, no sir”

Male:  Mind if I move in closer

Female:  At least I’m going to say that I tried

Male:  What’s the sense in hurtin’ my pride

Female:  I really can’t stay

 

Analysis:  This is a Christmas song?  The male has obviously put something in the female’s drink because she’s processing thoughts slower and her eyes look “starry.”  The male again is coercing her into staying and doing other obscene things all in the name of “pride.”  The poor girl cannot even fend off her attacker.

Bottom Line:  It’s cold.  She was drugged.  He’s an asshole.

 

I’m going to save the last verse for a later date when I’m feeling festive again.

Happy Holidays, my friends!!

She’s not that in to you . . .

People have made a ton of money off relationship books.  These books often target women.  Why?  Because we want to know what we did to fuck up a relationship, and we blame ourselves for the demise of a relationship (no matter how much the relationship and the guy sucked).  We want to understand.

Most couples have the “debriefing” meeting following the demise of their relationship.  I’ve recently had one of these (that I don’t remember), and I hear that it didn’t really bring me closure or make me understand/feel better.  I hear that it actually made me into more of an emotional train wreck than I was before it.  Obviously, the debriefing meeting is overrated.

I have an interesting collection of crazy books in my apartment that I have been using to figure out relationships.  It probably looks like I’m insane to the average person.  I have a ton of advice, personality, love, and etc books.  Never mind, my recent reading collection does make me look like an emotionally unstable, crazy, un-dateable woman (I swear this is all just research for my blog).  Thank you Half Price Books for having an awesome cache of crazy relationship books.

The book that I want to write is called She’s Not That Into You.  I know this has been written by a man to help women understand what it means when a man doesn’t call/text/write/send carrier pigeons.  It also covers the finer point of if he’s sleeping with someone else, not sleeping with you, not interested in what you are interested in, and doesn’t want to spend time with you, he’s just not that into you.  I’m sorry . . . I’ve read this book.  I’ve lived this book too.

Well, I happen to want to do the same service for men.  Dating now is different than it was years ago.  My normal MO is to communicate via secure email, graduate to text messaging, text for a couple weeks, and then meet the dude.  If I don’t like you over text messages, I’m not going to like you over dinner and drinks (AKA my time is valuable, I don’t want to waste it on a shitty date).  I promise.

The funny thing is that it’s harder to un-date someone.  Text messaging puts people in constant contact or at least the theory is there is this constant availability.  It’s also so easy to delete text messages, but the other person doesn’t get that message.  There’s no text that goes to the person’s phone saying the girl you’ve been texting has deleted all your messages and changed your contact info to DO NOT ANSWER.  Why can’t someone invent that!

For as opinionated, loud, and irritable as I am, I am the worst at dumping people.  I just hate doing it.  I’m not even sure why.  I’m normally done with the relationship far before the guy is, but I’ll let it drag on because I’m so awful at saying it’s over.  It’s, unfortunately, worse with guys I casually date.  My go-to lately is just not returning phone calls, texts, emails, etc.  I think it’s obvious if someone who has been texting you for days suddenly stops.

 

GUYS:  If she doesn’t return your texts, phone calls, emails, or messages delivered by Sherpa, SHE’S NOT INTO YOU.

 

Calling fifteen times a day to check in and leaving voicemails (that are not returned) is not necessary.  Just take the hint.  She’s not into you.  Actually, if you keep calling, there is a good chance that she’s going to think you are a stalker and that really confirms the nickname Rapist.

Girls, maybe we need to be more direct.  Maybe we should text and write that we are done and ignoring the guy from now on.  I’m sure there is an app for that.  If not, it’s going to be my holiday project.

Let me help you write your online dating profile . . . please

I give guys a lot of shit in this blog.  Most of this is fully deserved ribbing, but I do realize there is a lot of me making fun of men because they are men.  I make fun of situations, not necessarily people (most of the time, but no one is perfect).

Today, I’m going to give back.  I’m going to help you write your dating profiles again.  I’m doing this selfishly because I’ve been reading a ton lately and can offer advice.  I’m also doing this as a service to you because I get rid of people that have stupid catch phrases and clichés in their profiles (this could also be because I’m a little bit of a bitch).

You want this? Improve your online profile.

Your tag line should be something witty, but not cliché or stupid.  It should be upbeat and positive.  It should never, ever be something that scares the shit out of an average woman.  Let me give you some examples and how they translate to a woman.  I promise I am not making these up because if you read often, you know I’m not that creative.

 

M 43 looking for good honest woman. Work on private airplains for living

Hmm . . . lack of punctuation/grammar and I’m not positive what an “airplain” is.  Screams dumbass to me.

 

I tend to bust a move at random……Skill level is questionable.

Does that mean you have seizures?

 

This website is much more fun after drinking…

True, but none of us actually admit that.  Hey, where do you go to AA?

 

True grit & devotion

That was a good movie (both the new and old versions), but WTF.  Are you a cowboy or something rugged and cool?  Your profile pic does not indicate that.

 

I hear you wanna try to find it. Do you know what it is? I hear you go looking for what you want… I hope you find what you need.

Wanna?  What are you twelve?  You might also want to clarify what I’m looking for and needing because I’m pretty sure you don’t have a million dollars or a glass of champagne.

 

I intend to live forever. So far, so good.

Umm . . . are you a zombie or vampire?  Either way, I’m kind of interested in a not really wanting to meet you kind of way.

 

New to the area and networking to meet new people. Very chill and love to hang out with down to earth people.

Is networking the new way to say have sex?  Are you cold?  Maybe you need a blanket or sweater.

 

Help me out Santa…I’ve been nice this year!

Umm . . . you are in your 30’s.  Let’s sit down and have a talk.  Oh, you’ve totally alienated all the Jewish girls, genius.

 

Okay, so what do you do?

Write something not creepy, not desperate, and not stupid.  Write something that shows off the cool guy you are.  Better yet, tell me something interesting about yourself.  I promise, I’ll click on your profile if you write something interesting.

 

Some of my favorites are:

Looking for a partner in crime (this is mine and I’ll let you steal it).

New to town (I love to play tour guide, so I’m all about this dude).

Looking for good times with new people.

See!  They are all generic and not creepy!  You can do this!  Go take a look at your dating profile and make the necessary changes.  If you want someone else to look at it, I’m more than happy to.