Really? It’s time.
“Breaking stereotypes” is probably my #3 biggest hobby (after “babies” and “zoos”), and I’m doing it yet again. This time, I’m being your not-so-typical only child and proving that I can share. (Woot.) (<— I let WordPress automatically put that link in because I was all “WTF, what is the “Woot.” entry on Wikipedia for? … yeah.)
So yeah, through my virtual friend network, I’m sharing my blog and blogging and blah. (<– Can you tell I’m super lazy right now?)
To translate what I just attempted to say into actual English, I’m doing a blog swap with this new Internet lady friend Annie (go to her blog to see my post…. DO IT) through our 20-something Bloggers network, and she wrote pretty fancy post. (<– By “fancy” I don’t mean elegant. I actually don’t mean anything. I just think the word “fancy” is super funny, especially when I think about one of my top 5 quotes from 30 Rock: That’s the lip gloss she put on me so I could be her fancy boy.)
We were supposed to write about what we were gonna do next year that we’ve been putting off. Annie could have written about being awesome, but she clearly has been doing that for a long time. (See Figure A.)
Figure A.
So instead she wrote about dating, and I think she might be Liz Lemon, which is supa fly. So yeah, BAM, ANNIEfication coming at you NOW:
20-Something Bloggers has asked us what we’re going to do next year that we’ve been putting off for too long.
My answer is: DATING.
I moved to Boston for graduate school in 2008, after graduating from college in California, living in New York City for two and a half years and then living in California, again, with my mom for eight months.
Aside from the obvious damper a mother puts on one’s potential dating life, you’d think that these years would be ripe with dating. Or at the very least, meeting a lot of people in social situations involving alcohol and sharing common interests.
But I was pretty miserable after college. I wasn’t doing what I wanted to be doing, and I didn’t know what I wanted to be doing, but I knew it didn’t involve living in a city that felt too big and expensive for it to be home (even though I grew up there). Or moving across the country three times in three years.
Anyway, when I got to Boston, I dove right into grad school and, you know, connecting to my feelings and shit. I certainly made school a priority because it was important but also because it was easier than trying to figure out how to date at 25.
In 2008, I spent Thanksgiving with a very good friend of mine who had just met someone online.
She seemed happy and excited, and when I got home (drunk) the next day, I made myself a profile and spent hours and hours crafting it and answering the questions that would bring me my best matches.
I call the site I’m on (it rhymes with Schmo Schmay Schmupid– I actually call it “Schmo Schmay Schmupid Bullshit”) the bottom feeder of online dating sites and signed up initially because it was free.
That means, of course, that the people on the site aren’t the greatest quality.
Although, to be honest, I’ve been in touch with some seemingly hot, lovely guys.
Those are just never the ones I end up meeting.
The ones I do meet have names like Konstantin or have jobs like “puppeteer.”
And we sit down and chat amicably enough over food or drink and then go our separate ways, happy to never hear from the other again.
From the site, I’ve been on exactly those two dates.
And my “best matches” are full of people who don’t tell me until we’ve emailed for days that they’re actually 5’4” or who used to be women (true story).
So.
I have decided that 2011 will be the year I actually start dating. It is time.
And if you know of any smart, attractive, straight men in Boston, between the ages of 25 and 35 (negotiable, just no fake IDs, please), who might want to meet an intelligent woman who wears glasses and has an impressive though useless knowledge of pop culture, and whose idea of a great night involves eating in bed, please let me know.
I am totally happy to be set up.
