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Dating

Can We Date?

Ah modern etiquette. It’s a minefield.

Ever wondered if it’s ok to date your therapist/landlord/second cousin/adopted child?

Wonder no more dear hearts. The Morning News has compiled this handy infographic (click to enlarge).

Why not print it out and keep it in your handbag/manbag* as a handy reference guide?

*If you have a manbag you probably won’t need this as no self respecting person will date you anyway.

Hat tip to the ever awesome Kate Morris

Snake Oil

Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Online dating, every one
When will they ever learn… When will they ever learn?

 

I know that apparently *most* of the couples of who got married in the USA last year, met through e-harmony. I also know people who met via online dating and have since married and are very happy.

I’m just not sure that online dating is the solution which it purports to be.

In fact I think it’s snake oil.

On paper online dating looks pretty good, right? I’m very busy, I don’t really meet people, all my friends are coupled up – blah, blah blah (incidentally I’m quoting myself here). Also, it’s quite fun searching through the profiles with your mates, especially if you’ve had some wine.

Unfortunately, when you wake up the next morning, it’s, well not quite as fun… and actually it sucks.

You spend an hour or so trawling through boring profiles, trying to remember how fun it was the night before. You figure you really *ought* to make contact with some people.

So you do. You try to find a commonality between the two of you. You try to be witty, engaging, fun, lively, bubbly, intelligent etc.

Language fails you.

You decide to go shower, because you figure it’s just the hangover. You come back, look at a few more profiles and decide that you really need coffee. You drink coffee, come back… 

BUT

it’s not the hangover, it’s not the coffee,

you’ve

just

lost

the

will

to

live

 

It’s no fun at all. It’s soul destroying.

You start looking at some girls profiles because you’ve not tortured yourself enough just yet. Everyone else, looks younger, fresher, more fun, more appealing. You realise that you are old, fat and don’t photograph very well.

You eat some toast (because hangovers need carbs) and curse the joining fee which you could have spent on shoes (or more sensibly your council tax).

 

Maybe it’s just that particular dating site?

… Damn those salesmen are good 😉

 

Image credit gapingvoid

Remember When?

So, today I woke up irritatingly early. Saturday morning, 7am – wide awake. After watching Breakfast News on the BBC for a while (and quickly getting bored because the programme is only comprised of 15 minutes of content repeated over and over again) I got to thinking.

For some reason the song Two Princes by the Spin Doctors popped into my head. It came out in 1993 (I was 14 or 15) and back then I thought I was *very* grown up.

Of course, I wasn’t. But, in my head, I had it all sorted.

I’m now 31, and strangely, the older I get, the less I think I know.

They say life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I’m not sure I’ve ever been much of planner – but, nonetheless I think it’s somewhat snuck up on me.

So today I was thinking a little about who I was back then, what I thought/believed in etc. Now, obviously I don’t know what you were like aged 14, but I’m wondering if you were anything like me?

Remember when?

  1. You secretly thought you might end up marrying your first boyfriend/girlfriend (delete as appropriate)
  2. You thought you were a bit fat even though you only weighed 7 and a half stone (or 44 kilos)
  3. You wondered if your spots would ever clear up
  4. Having an older boyfriend was the coolest thing ever – and it didn’t occur to you to wonder what a twenty-something man would want with a 15 year old
  5. You’d kiss for hours and wind up with an ugly rash around your mouth
  6. It was perfectly acceptable to ‘pop upstairs’ with your boyfriend at parties – then share the sordid details with your friends
  7. You’d steal booze from your parents liquor cabinet and then top up the spirit bottles with water so they wouldn’t notice what was missing
  8. Martini and lemonade was sophisticated
  9. You’d pretend to like lager or beer even though it tasted rancid to you
  10. You thought that your parents were really unreasonable because they wouldn’t let you go out dressed like a lap dancer
  11. You never wore a coat – even in the middle of Winter
  12. You threw up, but then carried on kissing anyway
  13. Fidelity really wasn’t in your vocabulary
  14. Menthol cigarettes made your head spin
  15. You’d get home drunk but try to pretend you were sober in front of your parents
  16. You’d spend hours making mix tapes and/or trying to record songs off of the radio
  17. You thought you’d never recover from your broken heart
  18. You’d spend hours at Kensington Market trying to figure out how to best spend your £20
  19. You’d make yourself a new fake id at least once per month
  20. You were certain that no one (particularly not your parents) could possibly understand you

So my loves – sound anything like you? Hit up the comments 🙂

Adventures in Online Dating & Attractiveness Rank

Well my loves, it’s been an eventful weekend.

On Friday night fueled by copious glasses of wine and peer pressure I signed up to a dating website. I am now the proud owner of a profile on the Guardian’s ‘soulmates’ site.

It. Is. Scary.

I feel hideously inept – like a new kid, at a new school, standing in the playground staring intently at my shoes.

Gradually, I will get my head round it. Like any community, online or otherwise there seem to be norms to which you need to conform to.

Basically, it goes like this:

  1. Set up profile.
  2. Part with hard earned cash.
  3. Look at boys profiles.
  4. Giggle (at lot).

At some point, you find someone who you think might be good for you, at this point you have a few choices:

a) You can ‘favourite’ them. If you favourite someone, I guess it means you kinda like them. You’re registering your interest in them, but without contacting them directly. However, they will know that you have favourited them.

With me so far? Okey dokey then.

b) You can also elect to send them a message. Here’s where it gets kinda tricky – how on earth can you possibly communicate what an amazingly interesting, witty, gorgeous individual you are?

Well, if you’re me, you tell an extreme sports enthusiast about the abseiling incident you had, when aged 12 you let out too much rope and wound up lying the wrong way up against the surface you were supposed to abseiling down.

Or you tell a guy who likes his tea strong, that you’re not sure why you’re emailing him when you’re essentially incompatible because you like your tea milky.

Surprisingly neither have yet responded to me… 

The good news is, that some other guys have registered their interest in me (who said romance was dead?). Unhappily – 3 out of the 4 who’ve either messaged or favourited me are – how can I put this? Not quite my cup of tea. 

I’ve decided I need to be a bit more scientific when evaluating potential profiles, so I have created ‘attractiveness rank’ (I might even trademark it).

Now attractiveness rank is a complex algorithm. Here’s how it works – 50% of the rank is based on looks (sorry, it’s harsh, but true). The remaining 50% is based on how witty I think the profile is.

There are also wild cards – e.g –

  1. Anyone who quotes the Goonies gets a bonus point because I love the Goonies. 
  2. People who like extreme sports get docked 1 point because extreme sports frighten me.
  3. People who look similar to ex-boyfriends get automatically discounted because I think it would be weird to go out with someone who reminded me of an ex.
  4. People who are too good looking get discounted because they won’t fancy me and I hate rejection (I had a terrible time getting over Brad Pitt’s rejection – I just can’t go through it again).
  5. People who mention that they’re rich get discounted because I think talking about money is vulgar.

So my loves – clearly the algorithm is in it’s infancy – feel free to suggest further enhancements.

Oh & it’s my birthday tomorrow, all gifts gratefully received 😉

To Date or Not to Date

To date or not to date, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of various relatives looking at me in sympathy (it’s her hair you know)

Or to take arms against a sea of unsuitable men,

And via a dating website, date them? To date: to sleep (with them);

No more sympathetic relative’s looks, they may end

But what of the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks (Queen really should NOT be your favourite band)

That flesh is heir to, that’s not a consummation

I’d devoutly wish. To date, to sleep (with them);

To sleep: perchance to dream (please God stop snoring): ay, there’s the rub;

For between the snores, and fighting over the duvet what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this singleton’s conveyor belt,

Those relatives might give us pause: there’s the respect

We’ve been waiting for;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of smug relatives

Those oppressor’s who seek to see us in a Barratt starter home (somewhere near Milton Keynes)

But swiftly follows the pangs of despised love (this is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful wife)

The office romance commences and you are once again spurned (in favour of an unsuitably dressed younger model)

Patiently, you remove the unworthy,

Whilst he himself might have least had the grace to pack up his own crap

Bare-faced cheek? Who could be arsed,

To grunt and sweat under such a weight of cheap Ikea furniture (bin it love)

But for the dread of being alone

The sympathetic looks, the smiles (well she always was difficult)

Will the traveller return, puzzle through the dating website once again

Or would she rather bear the single ills she knows

Than fly to others that she knows not of?

Thus fear of the starter home makes cowards of us all;

And thus this new year’s resolution

Is thought, and thought and over-thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment (yes, I really am funny – look at my witty profile)

But perhaps my endeavours have turned awry

I’ve lost the will to take action. – Soft (I know)!

Her friends will smile, her relatives scorn (or worse worry)

But in all my datelessness remember’d.