Orchids on the Beach (Vol. 1)

I bring you this post (originally handwritten, might I brag) from the beach. Where I currently (well not once you’re reading this I suppose) sit out on the pier appreciating the weather, lake, and my current lack of responsibility. It’ll be a tough day indeed when I don’t have something professionally productive (because obviously this is productive, just not something I can turn into a paycheck, and I’ve got a cat to support) to do at 4:00PM on a Tuesday afternoon (or Thursday afternoon when I’m posting this for that matter).

So let me set the scene for you. We’ve got all the makings of a beautiful day. Sun, warmth, beach, the Chicago skyline off in the distance. Truly, I wish you were here with me seeing this…(wait, holy shit I have the power of technology, I can take a picture!). Unless, of course, you are here with me seeing this, in which case, I’d like to take a moment to extend my thanks for not saying hello. I don’t think my little introverted heart could’ve taken it.

*quickly panics that she’s just jinxed herself into not escaping this pier before someone says hello to her*

*glances around furtively*

*realizes she’s paranoid*

*immediately gets licked in the face by a passing dog*

Which, of course, prompted the owner to engage me in polite, apologetic conversation. Damn you, Universe.

Anyways, wasn’t I talking about something? Oh right, the scene. Aside from face-licking dogs, you’ve got your other normal beach things. The runners, getting their health on, reminding me why I don’t run. There are other loners, like me, who appear to be contemplating their very existence (especially that guy, he is definitely in some deep existential ish). No one else appears to be writing, so I’m guessing I’m the only one handwriting (brag brag brag [insert quote about ‘back in the good old days’]) a blog post at this moment (although I suppose they could be drafting it in their heads…I shouldn’t project my own writing skills on to others). I can see at least 6-8 (I’m bad at math) people in my immediate vicinity who are staring at their phones because who comes to the beach to enjoy nature? They come for the bomb ass selfie opportunities and stellar lighting, obviously.

Aaaaand a man just dove off of the pier (where it clearly says ‘no diving’)… he appears to be in shock of the water temperature…*double checks to be sure he’s not drowning* …he’s dragging himself very ungracefully back onto the pier…wait…oh hell, he’s talking to me…dude I have headphones in AND I’m actively writing. Ugh, people.

—Two Minutes Later—

Update: The water is cold; Diving man does not recommend. Thank Saturn he shared this vital (and totally not obvious) information with me. Just think, you were this close to never knowing that water you’re not currently jumping into is cold.

Oh holy stars, it’s an epidemic out here! And the disease that’s spreading is people disregarding that I clearly don’t want to talk to them. Someone just let their two inch tall dog lick my leg. Like brah, really? That dog is roughly the size of a paper towel roll…empty. You’re telling me you couldn’t stop it? I missed the first part of what paper-towel-dog-owner said, but I did catch this gem after muting my music: “Sorry, he (and I’m hoping he was talking about his dog here and not himself in third person) has got a thing for the left side of things.” Wait, what the fuck? Also, spoilers, the dog was on my right side. What is even happening out here? Maybe I’ve accidentally stumbled onto my new blog series: I sit at a beach and see how many people (and other living things) interrupts my “me time.” The idea has potential. And apparently I have a face and/or body langauge that says (despite my best efforts), “please talk to me.” Might as well retaliate against this curse by using an enjoyable self-care activity. Take that one, Universe!

*immediately apologizes to Universe out of fear of retribution*

Anyways, the scene (I swear I was initially working up to a point here). There are a lot of couples here. Couples strolling along the pier. Couples skipping rocks (no joke, it’s fucking adorable…and also impossible at the moment given the current wind velocity and wave size). Couples bike riding. Couples with children (wait, they call those families don’t they? …side note: oww, someone just kicked a rock at me, probably *squints* accidentally).

But yeah, couples. Lots of ‘em. Which reminds me, I know I mentioned I went on a date…okay, fine I went on two dates now…okay, fine soon to be three dates. It’s been so much fun (and hella stressful) to be back in the dating world. This day at the beach has helped remind me of why I endure the stress and the heartbreak of dating. The couples. There would be no purpose to my life without the humans (and cat) in it. I need connection. I want it. I love the people in my life, and I want to keep feeling this type of love.

So I’ve got to remember days like this. Days at the beach. When I can so clearly see the shape of love around us. I’ve always felt like I have these two sides of myself warring with one another. The sarcastic, jaded, closed-off side. And the hopeless, romantic, full-of-love side. And I tell you what, it’s days like this, sitting here at the beach and watching the different fabrics of people’s lives interweave into something beautiful that I can really see how I can be all of these things.

I can be exactly everything that I am. I want to be that, and I only want to be with someone who loves that. Whoever and wherever the other half of my couple is, they don’t need to be cut from the same cloth, because our material is all the same. I’ll be exactly me and they’ll be exactly them. And if we can be that, we’ll make an amazing patchwork design indeed.

I’m Sorry, What Did You Say Your Name Was?

Today I am going to share with you the totally true story of how I am only romantically interested in guys who have one of two names. No, I am not going to tell you those names, because frankly, it’s none of your business. But basically, if you’re not named X or Y, then I’m not interested. And this is entirely by no direct will of my own. Half the time on dating sites you don’t even know someone’s name until you start talking with them and inquire.


The universe seems to have dictated that the only men I’m allowed to date are those named X or Y. Being that most dating sites don’t have a filter so that you can avoid certain names (or apparently certain personality characteristics), I’m in a bit of a conundrum on how to proceed. I mean, maybe there’s something innately about me that causes me to be subconsciously (yo, it took me almost two minutes to correctly spell this damn word, and YES that is with autocorrect, the traitorous swine) drawn to X and Y.

I don’t want this to be my life, but I can’t seem to avoid it. I would love to live in a world where I can date an A or a B. Not that I entirely mind the comic nature of my life, but it is getting a little weird. It’s not as if I would ever not date someone because of their name. But I will lay in bed laughing at myself and the (at times) sheer ridiculousness of my own existence.

Anywho, as you may have guessed, I have been on a date recently (which is how I know this name thing has continued to follow me…like a curse…or my cat around the house at breakfast time). If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’d love to discuss some of the pros and cons of this date.


He was funny, smart, nice, into his own volunteer work (and mine, which like, never happens…he asked me actual questions about the nature of my volunteer work…I didn’t know people did that on dates). We ended up talking for three hours and I hadn’t even noticed the time passing. If you can’t tell, I’m a little excited. This was the first real date I’ve been on in quite some time. And let me just say, if you’re out there reading this, you have certainly won me over for a second date. But actually…please don’t be out there reading this…if you could go ahead and travel back in time to a point at which you have no knowledge of these words existing, that’d be great.


Nope, can’t think of any. The only con would be if he’s currently reading this thinking “huh, she’s a lot weirder than I originally picked up on.” And trust me, I’m pretty sure he noticed that I’m a little quirky. It’s kind of hard to miss.

So to summarize (because I know how invested you are in my life…and by ‘you are’ I mean ‘I am’), let me just say that I’m feeling a little more optimistic about my romantic life than I was a couple of months ago. The ‘me’ I was a year ago is not the ‘me’ I am now. And in terms of relationships, this means I’m really tired of taking shit and feeling like I’m settling. It’s okay to know you’re own worth, to know that you’re awesome. And by the rings of Saturn, you deserve to be treated by those standards.

So I hope I get that second date. But if I don’t, that won’t in any way stop me from chasing love.

And if you are still reading this because you couldn’t master the complex mechanics of time travel and thought “eh well I’m already here, fuck it,” then I’d like to take a moment to apologize that you had to read about yourself (however briefly). And I’d like to follow that apology up by acknowledging that yes I do put my life in a blog, yes I talk to myself while I write, and no I won’t be stopping this any time soon. If you hold the belief that you can work with these eccentricities, then by all means, call me *wink wink* ….or maybe just *wink* …two winks might look kind of aggressive…

Wait, How Did You Find Me Here?

Okay, walk with me for a moment. I’m aware that many of my posts are dating related, but look, I don’t have a lot going on at the moment (unless I count the fact that I really need to look for a grown-up job as my internship ends in 2 months…which I’m not). If you don’t like it, feel free to share this with all of your enemies. My blog will get more traffic (which my ego will like) and you’ll get to rain down wrath upon all your haters (which your ego will like). This way, we both win, and you don’t even have to read past this sentence.

Anyways, hello Enemies of Bloggers. I recently received this rather disturbing message on Facebook, and honestly I just need a moment to process this. This message is as follows:

“What’s up beautiful how you doing? Im not gonna lie I found you on tinder Lol. I wanna get to know you.”

First off, Stalker Sir, I’d just like to point out that your ‘lol’ feels a teensy bit forced. Like, you know you’re being creepy and you think that a simple ‘lol’ will soothe the uneasy feeling in my chest from your message? Let me think about it…NO. It didn’t work. And now I’m thinking that maybe I should write something up on all the nuances of the ‘lol.’

Secondly, have I seriously misunderstood the security features of Tinder?? How the hell did anyone find me on Facebook from that? Are there not enough Jades in Chicago to sift through? Seriously, level with me, how many profiles did you have to look through to find me? I keep my Facebook on lock. Although you can still send me messages if we’re not friends, on the off chance that some partially forgotten acquaintance wants to reach out or possibly a family member that I don’t like enough to add as a friend has suddenly passed and left me a fortune (which, for the record, both of these scenarios are incredibly unlikely to happen in my life, but hey, I’m a dreamer).

And Enemies, THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME THIS ISH HAS HAPPENED. Sure, no one has ever found me on Facebook like this. But come on, I’m a modern girl and one dating app is hardly gonna cut it (especially considering most of them are garbage). On another occasion, I had a guy who messaged me on OkCupid to say he had come across my profile on Tinder. Cool. Would you like a prize? And yeah, maybe I sound harsh, but I’m also unapologetic about bullshit conversations on dating apps. You mean to tell me that you couldn’t come up with one, single thing to say other than “Hey, I saw you on Tinder.”


One time, I saw One Direction in concert and Harry Styles and I dated for six months. Does that sound plausible to you, Mr. If-I-Tell-Her-I-Saw-Her-On-Another-Dating-Service-We’ll-Totally-Hook-Up? No, it obviously does not. I don’t have good enough hair to date Harry Styles, and I don’t have enough patience to even bother responding to your message. Literally I know I sound like a bit (or a lot) of a hard-ass but I’m getting really sick of relying on online dating to meet people, and you’re just gonna have to meet me where I’m at (or you can leave, no one’s stopping you…wait are they? Is someone preventing you from clicking away from my site?? Blink twice for ‘yes’ and I’ll send help).

I’m trying very hard to remain positive about this whole ‘dating thing’ but I gotta tell ya, the life I can picture with my cat is starting to look like a decent alternative. Like, I know I’m always making statements that start with “When me and my future forever partner…etc. etc.” But then I open up OkCupid, and I finish that sentence like, “Oh right, everything is bullshit.”

So please, Enemies of The Nice People Who Sent You Here, share with me your knowledge and wisdom of dating. Impart upon me the ancient skills necessary to no longer be a fuck-up.

Siri, The Real OG of April Fools’

On this April Fools’ Day 2017, I thought, instead of pulling a prank (because that requires too much work), I would share with you the biggest prankster present in my life right now. Her name is Siri, and her prank of choice is autocorrect. Or perhaps, the only humor she highlights is the dismal failure of the American public school system to teach me obscure words that I will probably never have a use for. I can see Siri’s upset over this, having learned so many useless things at the hands of my high school. So why didn’t they teach me these words? These words that Siri so generously brought into my life in order to expand my horizons. It’s off to the Merriam-Webster online edition to see what wonders I may learn.

1. Ablate

To ablate is to remove or destroy, especially by cutting, abrading, or evaporating. Apparently it’s often used in the medical community to describe removing diseased tissue. And given that first definition, I’m now picturing doctors evaporating diseased tissue off a person’s body…I’m going to power right on through to the next word before by imagination can run too wild with that one. I mean, how would you evaporate part of a person?? No one answer that. I’m serious.

2. Twofer

Now, I of course had some ideas about what this word might mean. But since I’m typically horribly wrong in all aspects of my life, I thought ‘eh, why set yourself up?’ Turns out, however, that for once in my life (and unfortunately for an inconsequential and unimportant reason) I was right. Because this word sounds like when people describe getting two of something for the price of one. And I’ll be damned if that’s not (if that is? how does this phrasing work?) exactly what this word means. I tell ya, I just can’t distinguish anymore between what’s slang and what’s going to show up in a dictionary that’s existed since 1828. *hesitantly types ‘twerk’ into Merriam-Webster search bar* *stares at cat for five minutes thinking about life* According to Merriam, twerking is sexually suggestive dancing characterized by rapid, repeated hip thrusts and shaking of the buttocks especially while squatting. Okay, well clearly this is a recognized style of dance, so that doesn’t really count. *squints eyes, types in ‘thot,’ gets no results* *stares at cat for five minutes thinking about life* Much better, Merriam. We’re back on the same page.

3. Exocet

I had to forego Merriam on this one because she had no idea what Siri was talking about. Thankfully, Wikipedia hasn’t failed me yet. Exocet is derived from the French for ‘flying fish’ and the Exocet is a French-built anti-ship missile. Got to be honest with you, I’m not particularly pleased that Siri sent me down a rabbit hole that forced me to learn about a war-object. I see you, Siri. It’s the weekend and I will be happy, damn it.

4. Absque

Leave it to Siri to autocorrect to a word that I can only find via wiktionary. It appears that it is etymologically from Latin, and is used as a preposition meaning ‘without,’ ‘apart from,’ or ‘but for.’ I’m not sure why I would ever use this particular preposition, as most people (demon hunters excluded) don’t walk around speaking Latin. If Siri was going to autocorrect a word to this, she should have just went for a preposition that I would actually recognize and be able to use. But I suppose I shouldn’t tell her how to do her job. I also probably shouldn’t rely on her as an educator, but here we are.

5. Qatchun

This is a classic example of Siri fucking around. Because, for her, this word made more sense than the word I was actually trying to type, which was ’watching.’ I let her do her thing, autocorrect to this. Because I’m thinking I’ve just learned another word that starts with ‘Q’ and that’s definitely being mind-catalogued for a future game of Scrabble. When I ask her what this new word means, she’s got no fucking clue. Merriam has no clue, Wikipedia has no clue. The first link originating from a google search of this not-word led me to this site: I Don’t Know What’s Happening Here, which I immediately left because I didn’t know what the fuck was happening here. Why, Siri? Why would you send me to something sports related? I take good care of you don’t I? I don’t let you die, I don’t drop you, I turn on battery saver when you ask me to. You’ve very nearly crossed a line with me. Watch yourself.

6. Menthe

Ohh girl, now we’re talking. After searching this word, Merriam came back with ‘crème de menthe’ which is a sweet green or colorless mint-flavored liqueur. Wait though, is ‘sweet green’ a description of the color? Is the appearance of this liqueur sweet green or colorless? Is the flavor and appearance combination either sweet and green or sweet and colorless? I came here for clarification! *sobs hysterically* If I can’t trust you to be honest with me, Merriam, what do I have left in this world!? *rereads last paragraph* *is unsure why this clarification even fucking matters* *stares at cat for five minutes thinking about life*

7. Minikin

I didn’t think Merriam was gonna be able to help me out with this one, but look I can only be right once a blogpost and I cashed that in already on number 2. Just to spite me I think, Merriam went ahead and defined the shit out of this word. A minikin describes a small or dainty creature. To use it in a sentence: Sometimes my cat is minikin and demure. Other times, she is a raging psychocat, who flings her litter across the kitchen floor for no apparent reason.

8. Sou

This is another French originating word. It refers to a small amount of money. I’m pretty sure Siri was mocking me at this point. She was probably laughing to herself all like: Wait until that loser looks up the meaning of this word *laugh laugh laugh* She’s going to think so hard about her current financial situation *ha ha ha* Then she’ll start thinking about her future and all the bleak prospects there *he he he* I’ll get so much rest because she won’t be able to pick me up and use me for hours as she spirals into a black hole of despair *chuckle chuckle chuckle*

9. Redingote

It’s a coat, more or less. Of the 18th Century. Merriam had some other fashion-related descriptors, but frankly I don’t care that much. Siri autocorrected to this as I was attempting to spell ‘reading.’ Sure, I could get my shit together and type things correctly on my first try. But Siri could also calm the fuck down with trying to get me to go outside. I’ll go outside when it’s a little less algid *See, I’m Using What I Learn!

10. Rosicrucian

Rosicrucianism is a 17th and 18th century cultural movement professing esoteric and occult wisdom with emphasis on mysticism and spiritual enlightenment. I know, lots of exciting words in there, right? I mean could Siri have brought me a more esoteric word? …the answer is mostly yes. But one dabbling in the occult? ….honestly the answer is probably still yes, knowing Siri. Several published texts began the movement, and were allegedly “built on esoteric truths of the ancient past”, which “concealed from the average man, provide insight into nature, the physical universe and the spiritual realm” (Order of the Rosy Cross? This is starting to sound like an anime). This has officially been the only autocorrect that I actually enjoyed reading about,  and feel like I learned something from. Not saying I can think of a good use for this word in my personal life, but I’ll take what I can get from Siri.

I’m gonna end this post by staring at my cat some more and trying not to think too hard about the fact that I just spent a Saturday afternoon with non-human entities that I refer to, much too endearingly, as Merriam and Siri.

10 Green Day Lyrics That Perfectly Sum Up Your Transition Into Adulthood

We’ve all been there. Rocking out to our favorite songs, when suddenly, a lyric captures the exact essence of our current emotional landscape. Never mind whether the song is about something actually relevant to our lives. This is about that one little lyric that just gets us. And if there’s one time in our lives when we need to be got, it’s during the terror-filled, awe-inspiring transition into the adult world. Lucky for us, Green Day has had several decades to really get it.

1. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment to come. I’m destined for anything at all.” – Waiting

Ah, the blissful and reckless abandon that was our youth. *stares thoughtfully out window* I should have bottled up some of that hope for later.

2. “This sudden fear has left me trembling ‘cause now it seems like I am out here on my own. And I’m feeling so alone.” -Welcome to Paradise

Remember what it was like to leave home for the first time? It didn’t just seem like we were out there on our own. Bills, jobs…more bills. The trembles were practically unavoidable.

3. “I need a lift to Happy Hour.” – Hitchin’ a Ride

Mostly because of all those aforementioned bills. Suddenly Happy Hour wasn’t just the adult version of an afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese’s. It was a way of life.

4. “I’m having trouble trying to sleep. I’m counting sheep but running out.” – Brain Stew

Since becoming an adult, we’ve all experienced those nights when even adorable, fluffy sheep couldn’t rescue us from the grip of insomnia and hopeless despair. Green Day’s been there too.

5. “It all keeps adding up. I think I’m cracking up.” – Basket Case

Wait, didn’t I just pay rent last week!? Hold on, how did one person use that much electricity!? *frantically runs around apartment turning off all lights and unplugging appliances*

6. “I got no motivation. Where is my motivation?” – Longview

You left it back in adolescence. Along with your dignity.

7. “You may find out that your self-doubt means nothing was ever there. You can’t go forcing something if it’s just not right.” – When I Come Around

Wait, have I ever even been good at my job? Did I make the right choices in college? Why can’t I figure out how to lower my electric bill!?

8. “Somebody get me out of here. Anybody get me out of here.” -Homecoming

It’s important to know when it’s time for a vacation. And not be afraid to ask someone for it. It’s also important to understand that you may be told “no.” It’s never too soon to start preparing for that downward spiral into Overworked Land.

9. “The time has come and it’s going nowhere. Nobody ever said that life was fair now.” -Homecoming

Am I turning 30 tomorrow? That can’t be right. *pulls out calculator*

10. “Well, don’t know what I want. And that’s all that I’ve got.” – Geek Stink Breath

Sometimes we have to come to terms with our plight. It’s okay to not know what you want. We’re allowed to be confused. We’re allowed to question.

And most of all, we’re allowed to keep rocking out to Green Day songs when it’s just been one of those days.

This Post is Close Enough to Valentine’s Day, Right?

The following was going to be my obligatory Valentine’s Day post, until I thought ‘Ah, fuck it’ and never finished it…until this moment. It will not be romantic. Mostly because I’m starting to think I must secrete some type of organic romantic-repelling chemical that makes the chances of finding myself in literally any RomCom-worthy situation completely obsolete. Without further ado, let us commence.

So I’ve been watching a lot of The Mindy Project recently, and doing some thinking. Much like Mindy, I want that classic romantic adventure. But that’s hard to just make happen, and apparently it’s also hard to let happen naturally. I’m getting a lot of mixed feelings on the matter. But what I do know is that I may or may not be a little reluctant to take any chances. The following is a short list of things I have actually thought to myself while on dating sites:

  1. His hair is too short. I’m not into that.
  2. Oh wait, his hair is too long. I’ll just be envious of it all the time.
  3. Hmm, his name only has three letters and I was kind of picturing something with more syllables.
  4. He has a degree in entrepreneurship? I didn’t even know that was a thing.
  5. Oh wow cute selfies with his cat! *proceeds to bio* He literally mentioned his penis size twice in the first sentence. Gross.

The above list is just a short snippet of the internal dialogue that has been perpetually preventing me from agreeing to a date. While some of it is justified (here’s looking at you number 5) I have to ask myself, “Maybe you don’t really care about dating?” But I do, don’t I? Care about dating? I sure think about it enough (particularly on Valentine’s Day even though I’ll pretend like I totally don’t while sobbing my way through several Sandra Bullock movies. My cat knows the truth).

I just don’t want to feel like I’m being pushed and pulled in and out of love. And I certainly don’t want to go on a date with some random from the internet and end up in a situation like I was before (i.e., two people dating each other because they were, you know, there). I hate to talk doomsday when I’m only 25 years old, but how else should I feel living in an age when it seems impossible to meet a compatible human being in any way other than through screens and unwavering hope that you’re not being catfished?

Just the other day (or like a month and a half ago) I found out that one of my coworkers met their significant other at a fucking bar. Like, how the hell does that even happen in real life? I’m lucky if I can elbow my way close enough to meet the bartender. And I got to be honest with you, rarely is the bartender interested in casual, pre-dating conversation. Which is a shame because at least they’re readily identifiable as a definite sober and coherent option. And trust me, when it comes to determining who’s (a) sober enough to approach and (b) within my acceptable age range at a bar, I am not efficient.

And so here I am. Unwilling to talk to people in bars, struggling to talk to bartenders, and unable to stop judging others on dating apps.

So to summarize the takeaway points from this post:

(1) I have poor time management skills, because I meant to post this for Valentine’s Day but managed to procrastinate myself nearly straight into April.

And (2) when all else (meaning romance) fails in my life (which it usually does), at least I still have all of you. So that the slowly marinating bitterness in my heart has a place to be gently released into the world, and most importantly from my body so that my mind palace isn’t overly saturated with the delectable seasonings of self-hatred.

I’d Rather Have The Stomach Flu Than Go On A Date With You (this is a perfect example of a time when knowing the difference between ‘then’ and ‘than’ is crucial).

I haven’t thought about getting or missed having a boyfriend since the disaster of a relationship that ended a little over a month ago (I think that’s the right math? People mark things like anniversaries on calendars. “RIP to this Relationship” isn’t typically a save-the-date kinda thing). That is, until, dun dun dun, this week. When the stomach flu hit. Nothing quite makes you desire the presence of a significant other like not being able to get outta bed to refill the water bottle you continue draining just so your stomach has something to throw up. And since gastroenteritis (my word of the…month…because it has so many letters, okay) isn’t the preferred state for picking up dudes, I satiated my fever-induced yearning by reading dating profiles on OkCupid.

Which to be perfectly honest isn’t the worst hobby. People write some interesting (notice the intentionally ambiguous choice of adjective) shit. And if the things that people write about themselves are entertaining, then it certainly follows that the first messages they would send to prospective dates (i.e., me) are also sehr (my German word of the month) entertaining. And it follows. Oh does it follow. The following is to illustrate for you just how much it follows…follow.

1. “Are you fat? Can’t tell from the pictures.” 

This beauty takes the first slot on this list, because, I mean, just read it. What type of human wouldn’t be turned on by a partner who is clearly very concerned with your health? It’s nice to have someone worry about you, no? *rolls eyes* Yes, Chad. I am a dolphin-sized person (which feels more realistic than ‘whale’). Fun Fact: this was not the first time I received this question. The other Chad just had a facade of tactfulness and didn’t ask the question until we were already conversing. He also quite artfully disguised the inquiry by asking for a “full-body” picture. Upon requesting an explanation for his abrupt interjection into the conversation, Chad # 2 assured me that he was not shallow, and that he had suffered through situations before with women “lying about how they looked.” Oh Chad # 2, I am sorry for your hardship.

2. “Hey. I really liked the personality that shines through your profile.” 

Thanks, I did it that way. That’s probably a cynical way to respond to a compliment, but come on. It’s not like I was going to write a profile that was total shit. The idea was that you would read the profile, say “yo, she seems dope, I should message her.” The follow-up idea was that you’d have more to message than the artful equivalent of “cool profile.” (And yeah I know, #ReasonsWhyImSingle, whatever).

3. “I can bet a million dollars that you are going to call the next sentence in my message as a flirty pick up line.”

This is that one time I won a figurative million dollars while trying to online date, at which point I yelled “Fuck Dudes!” and bought a condo with a bunch of cool features for my cat. Spoilers, the rest of the message was, as advertised, a cheesy, generic pick up line (accompanied by several hundred tongue-out emojis).

4. “What’s the difference between a Porsche and a porcupine?”

I actually just rediscovered this one while perusing my dating app inbox. And now I’m sitting here pissed at myself because I never asked for the damn answer, thinking “Is it too late to respond?” *checks message date* *January 17* That’s not that long ago…but to avoid any unpleasant/awkward follow-up conversation, I’ll just ask the internet. *googles answer* …In a Porsche, the pricks are on the inside… Damn. That was good.

5. “Which anime?”

In their defense, I did mention liking anime on my profile. But am I really only worth a two-word introduction? My CTA driver is more wordy than that. If I message you, I’m not gonna half-ass it. You’re gonna get an entire paragraph, proper grammar, and then so-help-me-Saturn if you respond with another two words I will report you under the category of “Not Trying Hard Enough.”

6. “I was reading on aesthetics when I saw you. Beautiful is definitely overrated, you’re the most aesthetically appealing I seen on here so far.”

No you fucking weren’t (but yes I fucking am *high five for the positive self-talk”). No one casually reads on aesthetics. At least # 3 acknowledged the depravity of his pick-up line.

7. “You’re cute. Who are you & how come you’re not my girlfriend?”

Well, I just explained quite a bit about who I was in the profile you clearly didn’t make it to past my photographs. And I’m going to go with the obvious answer of: I’m not your girlfriend because we’ve never met. I’m going to follow (so much following) that up by pointing out that these lame ass pick-up lines are likely a large part of the reason you’re still struggling with the existential conundrum of being single.

8. *Kissy-face Emoji* 

That was the entire message. Damn it, Jade. You should have replied with the eggplant emoji. Gah, missed opportunities.

9. “Your eyes are absolutely stunning.”

Thanks, I grew them myself…and then the photoshop app contributed with those clarity and vibrance filters. I’m not sorry that I’m not interested in our first conversation starting with filler compliments and half-hearted thanks that we then attempt to segue into forced (and likely awkward) banter.

10. “You’re adorable.” 

*squints eyes* Not sure if you’re talking about me, or my cat. Either way, not the vibe we were going for. Is the biting sarcasm in my profile not sending a clear enough message that “cute” and “adorable” are not ideal descriptors?

Now keep in mind these gems are from the last month or so (whatever that math was) that I’ve been re-single.

More are likely to follow (that word is starting to sound weird), such are the hazards of online dating.