The best place to date on the internet

Aside from making a joke Christian Mingle dating profile my freshman year of college, I have never tried online dating. Sort of. If we’re talking specific dating websites like Okcupid, Tinder, eHarmony, then fuck no. I still can’t wrap my head around making a digital poster trying to sell yourself in under 30 seconds to a bunch of people who are superficially judging the SHIT out of you. It’s the digital dating equivalent of the poorly dressed guy with gross teeth and whiskey breath trying to chat you up in the bar after you just spent 2 exciting hours picking out your outfit, curling your hair and applying liquid eyeliner, just to find an anal fissure rain on your pretty parade. No thank you, sir. Why put so much effort into a dating profile filled with hungry rats when there’s a way more effective place to date online?

Are you ready for this shit?

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It’s TWITTER.

For about a year, I gave out my Twitter handle instead of my phone number or Facebook or email. And actually my current bf, who before was a really, really light acquaintance, thought I was hilarious on Twitter and it eventually led to us hanging out, dating and gettin’ all lovey and shit. All of those other mediums are WAY too personal to give out to someone you’ve just met or a cute acquaintance. Here’s why:

  • Texting is never casual and always stressful with new people.
  • Facebook is like inviting a new person into your family dinner, high school reunion and a digital record of your life for the past decade simultaneously
  • Email is like you’re ready to give up and share bills already

Why Twitter is the best place to date

On Twitter, you don’t have to use your real name if you don’t want. I think there is a deep meaning in adopting a user name, because it frees you from the confines of societal norms that your government name ties to you. You can express yourself more freely, which is the kind of communication you should get out there right away when it comes to meeting new people. None of this “so, where’d you go to school?” bullshit and straight to the “corn dogs are fucking AWESOME” jam. Twitter lets people read you and your thoughts as you go about your normal, daily life, (and lets you read them too), which I think is a WAY better dating tool than constructing a profile of your Best And Most Interesting Qualities to lure dates. Dating profile fluff isn’t getting anybody anywhere. Showing who you are on Twitter will get you somewhere (unless you totally suck and in that case ain’t nobody can help you but God herself).

This is you on every OkCupid date you've ever been on
This is you on every OkCupid date you’ve ever been on

Your Twitter handle is also low commitment contact information to give to cute guys or girls in the bar. You both can follow each other, casually fav, retweet (!!!) or reply to tweets, without there being a ton of intimate pressure to text or endure a fucking awkward and outdated facebook chat *shudders*. Plus, there’s already a bunch of random people following you on Twitter anyways, so adding one more isn’t weird like being immediate Facebook friends would be.

And if you’re reluctant to hand out your Twitter handle, get theirs. That way you can see what kinds of things they write about or retweet before you decide to follow them. If it’s a ton of sports stats and inspirational quotes, then you just sidestepped adding a bunch of a “your” vs. “you’re” tweets in your feed. If it’s a bunch of funny complaints, jokes and relevant cultural references? Cool, new material to steal and use on your coworkers.

What’s best is that in the off chance that your prospective date doesn’t have a Twitter handle, you’ll know they suck and can avoid a week of annoying favs and @ replies. It’s a win win. Yes, the argument could be made that there are cool and interesting people without a social media presence. Lemme know when you find one who isn’t also worried about the fluoride in the water controlling our thoughts. It’s 2014, yo.

So next time you think a guy/girl is cute, think about sending over your twitter handle on a cocktail napkin. You never know if it could turn into a brief and fun romance, new jokes to retweet/steal or a lifetime of LUUUUUVVVVVV.

 

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The real Minneapolis dating scene: Don’t talk to me unless I know you already

Downtown_Minneapolis_at_night

This New York Times article chronicling the dating habits of Minneapolis residents is missing a few key elements of our *wonderful* dating scene. Here are my thoughts on the article and what they left out:

  1. Minnesota nice? People are jerks here just like everywhere else – except when your car gets stuck in the snow. Then they come out of the woodwork like a beautiful termite infestation of goodwill and camaraderie.
  2. The Minneapolis dating scene consists of going out with your friends and not talking to anyone else except your group of friends. That’s seriously it. Maybe it’s because on some level we all know that everyone else will be just as shitty of a human being as our horrible friends, so why bother meeting anyone new? It’s either smart or incredibly lazy with a side of depressing as hell. But hey, that’s us!
  3. My boss once said something really great about Minnesotans and why our dating scene sucks: if you start talking to someone in an elevator, some light chat about the afternoon or the weather, they get so nervous that you’re gonna follow them to their car or ask for their personal home address that they become extremely paranoid and ruin the entire light-hearted experience all because they think you’re gonna murder them. I don’t know what it is or why it exists, but it is very real.
  4. It’s nearly impossible to have a nice conversation with another person in Minneapolis, possibly the entire state, without it being extremely awkward and feeling like a gigantic waste of time. There’s just something about the look in everyone’s eyes that screams “I don’t want to be talking to you. I have enough friends and I’m probably sleeping with one of them when I get black out drunk/horny/sad enough to make a move.”

So: who’s packin’ their bags for good ol’ MPLS?!

Certainly there are very different realities among the different types of people who reside in Minneapolis. Some may be more romantic; others even more bleak than the sad outline I provided above. bad-first-date

And maybe it’s just my age group. I represent the 20-something U of M grad who is still friends with mostly all her college friends, friends of those friends, and friends from work. If you’re not a constant, forced upon presence in somebody’s life here, there ain’t gonna be no out-of-the-blue phone calls happening to hang out or “get a juicy lucy.” (Which, ew.)

Winter also plays a huge part in our disjointed dating scene. For over 6 months of the year, you are confined to the walls of your home, the numbers in your telephone and your Facebook chat list. Making friends in the winter is nearly impossible. Why would you dig your car out of 2 feet of hardened snow to meet up with someone who you don’t even know if you’ll like? That’s why we tend to stick to our group of tried and true friends and don’t bother to branch out unless we absolutely have to. Because chances are, we’ve already got one of you in our circle of friends:

Gay and love dancing? I’ve got two of those already. Going through a never-ending existential crisis with a side of seasonal depression? Yup. See him once a week. In a band? SO AM I AND EVERYONE I KNOW. (Thingamabobs? I’ve got twenty!) And if you work at Target Corporate, you better keep movin’ pal cuz nobody wants that Stepford/hipster hybrid cramping their heroin chic apartment.

Furthermore, maybe our dating scene really isn’t any shittier than any other city in the US. In fact, I’d be even MORE skeptical if a city was REALLY good at dating. So what, does that mean you’re all a bunch of honestly nice people who like to go out and have fun with each other? Sickening.

These are the dates I went on this year:

Love.
Dating.
  • A shorter-than-me bartender who believed strongly in gender roles. I’m 5’7″ and he wouldn’t stop mentioning our height difference or being really intense about how a woman and a man should act in a relationship.
  • A fun guy I ran into randomly 3 times who I met downtown MPLS and a thrift store in St. Paul. He picked me up the night gay marriage was legalized in MN, we shared a PBR tallboy and celebrated at the Townhouse, and then drank beers on a bridge by the train tracks until it was time to go home. It was the most fun and exhilarating date I’ve had all year, but he was also living in his car at the time. I mean, I’m down for whatever, but it’s pretty hard to date someone who’s living in their car. In the words of Liz Lemon, that’s a dealbreaker, ladies.
  • A guy I met at work where I dj who wouldn’t stop bothering me until he finally broke me down and got my twitter handle, then my snapchat name, and then my number. We had a really awesome date and then he bailed on the second date citing “baseball” as the reason.
  • A brief snapchat romance with a guy I grew up with as a kid. Snapchats turned sexy, sexy turned into hour long phone convos, amazing phone convos turned into an invitation to his hometown for a 4th of July IRL hangout. Not surprisingly, Snapchat had not wielded a magical forum for love through timed photos, and we were set to self destruct from the beginning, just like the photos themselves.

You see, folks? Those weird romances could have happened to anyone in any city across the country, even the world. So maybe we should stop thinking that every time the NYT comes in to town to chronicle our weird dating scene that we’re special or especially fucked up when it comes to finding a mate. I mean, isn’t one of the most common human denominators the fact that dating sucks? Why else would Sex and the City be such a big hit, or How I Met Your Mother? The real truth is that dating sucks no matter where you live; we’re all just uniquely bad at it. WE ARE THE WORLD (of bad daters). Let it bring us together. Hallelujah.

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F me on Facebook punkssss

Dating: Defining the lukewarm lover

Lukewarm_date_with_Rosa_by_shellegg
“Lukewarm Date with Rosa” by shellegg Image via deviantart.com

Telling someone you don’t like them romantically is not fun. And it doesn’t even have to be that you dislike them per se, but even saying you “don’t feel a romantic connection but still think they might be a cool friend” is a really strange boundary to set up when you’ve had maybe one or two dates with anyone. It’s like asking someone to define Yeezus having only heard the opening track. That’s just insane.

I have this theory that may be brilliant or really fucking obvious. It’s that we already know what we think of each other, but we don’t like not having the insurance of a lukewarm lover on the back burner. They’re always there, pretty eager and ALWAYS complimenting your hair. (Plus, it’s always fun to be liked.) But where do we draw the line between leading someone on and keeping them in your cell under “IDK, MAYBZ”?

Reasons lukewarm lovers are still in your cell phone, life

  1. It’s easy to get lonely. Even if the love is lukewarm, it’s something.
  2. Nothing better has come along. It sounds harsh, but you’d be lying to yourself if you say you have never been on a few too many dates with someone because at least it was something to do/entertaining. Of course it’s best to be honest to your lukewarm lover about your intentions. I really like hanging out with you but I’m not sure I see a future together is something I’ve totally said before, and it worked out fine. It feels awkward coming out of your mouth, but people respect honesty a lot more than you’d think. And it’s not like they’re gonna die cuz they can’t have you. People are stronger than you think, too.
  3. What if you need a quick date to a wedding/bar mitzvah/your ex’s engagement party. lukewarm-faucet Of course it’s cool to fly solo, but sometimes that doesn’t feel good and you need someone there with you who’s not your gay BFF or your roommate.
  4. You have no idea what you want. Is there a deeper reason you still have this person in your life? Maybe it’s just a friendship you’d like to continue, or maybe there’s room for romantical shit. Don’t put too much pressure on defining it. Maybe what you need is to NOT define it at all and see where it goes, while still trying to be honest about your intentions. Leading people on sucks, but at least if you’re honest about your uncertainty, they can decide if they can deal with uncertainty or wanna GTFO. Options, yo.
  5. Ego. You want to think that a ton of lukewarm loves are TOTALLY fantasizing about your genitals and sick style, when they are probably not thinking about you at all, or thinking that you’re a huge turd. Nobody likes a turd. Don’t be a turd.

Basically, even though it sucks to talk about uncomfortable shit (hey, adulthood!), it’s best to be open and honest with your lukewarm lover. They can probs handle it, just don’t be a huge asshole because you’re not the first person they’ve ever liked and you won’t be the last. And even if they can’t handle your lukewarm definitions, remember it’s for the best. They’ll move on to find what they’re looking for and so will you. No need to waste your time AND another person’s. Stick to my life mantra which also applies to dating and you should be mostly okay: let’s try not to ruin anyone’s day here, and don’t be a fuckhead.

Sex: What the fuck #1

Image via rounds.com
B Spears knows what I’m talkin about. Image via rounds.com

 

At the risk of sounding cliche/sexist/bored with my own sex life throughout this series, I’d like to offer these views on sexuality plaguing me and the 20-somethings in my life. Post #1.

American society and sexuality

How can a culture so fucking OBSESSED with sex be so bad at fucking? Of course it’s horrible of me to group every American (mostly the American straight dudes cuz those are the ones I’m doin’) into the category of being terrible in bed, because that obviously isn’t true. This is more for the dudes who have never heard of foreplay and how VITALLY IMPORTANT IT IS to have good sex with a woman, people who only get theirs and don’t share the O wealth, and those plagued with sex shame. Yikes!

Sex is everywhere. “Sex sells!” they say. So why is it that we are constantly surrounded by sexual images, sexual songs on the radio that sometimes play into rape culture, etc. but doing the actual deed gets people really stressed out, leading to bad bedroom experiences? I’ve got a few ideas.

Body image

Image via bodyandsoulactive.com
Every single day. Image via bodyandsoulactive.com

Everyone has insecurities. It’s practically unavoidable unless you’re some 50-year-old yogi who don’t give NO shits anymore. You’d think the fact that we all have insecurities about our bodies, our personalities and weird hair would cancel out in bed and we could all just have a good time. But no.

Is it that we’re all so self-centered? I know the times I’ve been deathly insecure in bed have been due to freaking out about something concerning my own naked body. Is he gonna think I’m disgusting for not shaving myself bald/I shouldn’t have eaten that burrito/If I have a double chin from this angle I’m going to kill myself are probably all things that used to run through my mind from the beginning of my sex life (18) to around 22.

What most people don’t realize until well into their sexual experimentation is that these insecurities read as crazy disinterest in your sexual partner. While you’re freaking out about how you look from a certain angle, they’re getting that you’re so uncomfortable, probably with them, that you can’t even enjoy or pay attention to the shared experience.

Tip: next time you’re in bed with someone, try to NOT think about yourself and your insecurites. Nobody is perfect. Celebrities crap/queef/feel unloved sometimes too, bro. I know it’s hard, but if you take baby steps to being secure with yourself, practicing self acceptance, trust and maybe having a bit of confidence, the sex will get SO SO SO much better.

Media

Image via frontpagemag.com
Faceless fucks. Image via frontpagemag.com

Ugh. THE MEDIA, DUN DUN DUN! What a crazy ecosystem of all the wrong ways to live. NO WONDER so many straight dudes think sex can start immediately without any foreplay for the lady parts. We need that shit. WE NEED IT. NEED. IT.

I guess for the sake of quick storytelling it makes sense (American Pie and their awful, horrible, no good sexualities come to mind), but in a culture where sex is a shameful act (damn you, Puritans!), it comes across sometimes as something to “get over with” as quickly as possible. Nu-uh. Cut it out right now.

Tip: Watch a bunch of artistic French or Latino films or something. Observe the sensuality. Have sex with a foreigner from a sensual land! Learn about sexuality in a different culture. It’s not like other cultures don’t have their own probs (yo misogyny, heavy gender stereotypes, bad outfits) but at least you can learn a bit about how other cultures express themselves sexually. It’s important to step outside of our own heads sometimes to get a different perspective. Also, just get sensual. Shame is lame!

Magazines

I would take sex advice from Khloe Kardashian over any Cosmo writer ANY DAY. Image via celebitchy.com
I would take sex advice from Khloe Kardashian over any Cosmo writer ANY DAY. Bonus: Shitty photoshop. These magazines are pure hell. Image via celebitchy.com

I remember when I used to buy and read magazines like Cosmopolitan. I was mostly a pre-teen to real teen during those years, because that shit is insufferable to read now. A friend in high school actually boycotted reading the mags after she read a tip similar to this: Keep your man satisfied in bed so he won’t leave you. SPIT TAKE! What the fuck. Seriously.

Here is a funny list of the worst Cosmo sex tips that’s pretty representative of the bullshit that gets printed in these sad mags. It’s seriously like none of these women have ever been in bed with a man and are taking descriptions straight from Harlequin romance novels and making them 10 times WORSE.

Tip: don’t take advice from magazines. They are the worst gender/sex/sexuality propaganda EVER. Go to a punk coffee shop, find a girl with a shaved head and ask her a bunch of questions about gender and sexuality. It will be the best conversation of your life. I promise. Or, you know, talk things out with your partner. Good communication is key to a great lay. HEY!

Taylor Swift is single again, another day has its dawn

taylor swift
Single again! Oh joy. Image via newnownext.com

Just like the sands of time, Taylor Swift finds herself without an 18-year-old boy to hug at nigh-nigh time. Here are my thoughts:

A) Why is Taylor Swift dating 18-year-olds?

I can barely masturbate to anyone my age, let alone ACTUALLY DATE THEM. And seriously, an 18 year-old? What the fuck does he have going on besides having been world famous for a minute? Sure, he’s got that confusing, side-swept hair ‘n bang combo that makes tweens excited in a really uncomfortable way. And maybe he has some money now, but if my exact and unfaltering recollection of boy band money managements past are any indication, I know that young Harry probably doesn’t have THAT much cash floating around. There’s also charm, but homeless guys on the bus can also be charming so that’s null and void.

B) Why does she always have a boyfriend?

SLOW THE FUCK DOWN T SWIFT Image via graziadaily.co.uk
SLOW THE FUCK DOWN T SWIFT Image via graziadaily.co.uk

Girlfriend needs to take some HER TIME. Stop dating anyone who looks kinda cute and is kinda famous. There are plenty of kinda cute boys to ruin your day when you get older. There’s no need to rush it! Hasn’t she seen every episode of Sex and the City? Love and relationship anguish literally never ends unless you’re lobotomized or in a coma 4ever.

Maybe it’s super lonely being that famous. And sadly it kind of seems like she never had a lot of friends growing up either. But the reason I like being single so much is because I have AMAZING friends. Maybe she should work on forming strong and true friendships this year instead of jumping on every cute celebrity who says they like her Max Martin-produced songs.

C) This may be why she gets dumped a lot

Harry Styles was reported as saying that during their Carribean fight, T-Swift proclaimed “You’re lucky to even be with me.” Whoa, bitch. That is uncalled for. Definitely some ego that NEEDS to be checked. Don’t say that, not to anyone, ever! You are one human being who just happened to become famous by writing songs about failed high school relationships. So what, we’ve all written angsty poems about our high school loves gone wrong. You are successful, but you are not a god. Don’t say shit like that.

I’m not picking sides here and I really don’t even want to defend Harry Styles because I like Taylor Swift’s latest album, but what EXACTLY is lucky about being with Taylor Swift? That once the inevitable break up happens, she’s gonna totally shit on you in an amazing song? Or that everywhere you go, paparazzi are following the both of you? Or maybe it’s the stupid celebrity couple name that need to die in a sick a twisted death that haunts him in his dreams? Haylor. HAYLOR. HUG ME HAYLOR I’M RIGHT HERE BREATHING MOISTLY ON YOUR EYE LID. 

They were cute. RIP suckaz. Image via andpop.com
They were cute. RIP suckaz. Image via andpop.com

Taylor: please, slow down. Be by yourself. It can be beautiful. Being alone is not sad. It’s fucking awesome. Pizza rolls? Anytime baby. Take a look into what you REALLY want in a partner, and not into their celebrity status or what kind of song you’ll get out of holding hands with someone you think doesn’t deserve to be with you. That’s kinda insane, girl. Get it together!

Relationships: Facebook displays of affection

O great. Image via drunkenstepfather.com

So I’ve been Facebook stalking a high school acquaintance of mine. It is, for the most part, the craziest wall I have ever read on Facebook since 2006 when we were all but young bucks puking on each other ripe on the vine of life. The ups and downs of this kid’s love life and the people he/she interacts with are nothing short of astonishing. In the few weeks I’ve been following the story, there has been a faked suicide, supposed teenage polyamory, and more declarations of love than you could ever imagine. It’s like a goddamn hormone farm of bad grammar and terrible life choices. AND IT’s SO JUICY.

Nevertheless, JESUS CHRIST. All this very public talk about how much you love somebody and displaying conversations that should without a doubt be private are plastered across our newsfeeds and are ABSOLUTELY begging us to get involved and inevitably mock. It’s the internet, that’s what its there for. Because honestly, any sane adult would have the tact and life experience to know that if you’re constantly, CONSTANTLY posting/writing/spamming about how in love you are, chances are you’re probably doing it for the attention.

I’m sure it feels nice sir. But kindly keep the photographic evidence on your Dell. Image via youngchubby.net

Don’t get me wrong: one or two posts once in a while from a stable and actually in love/sane couple who still acknowledge their individuality is all gravy. Love should be celebrated! But a fucking paragraph every night explaining to the hopeless world how nobody “gets” your love? PUKE. It’s a game I just made up like to call Young Love, Low Intelligence Adult, or Bullshit. It’s also insulting to everyone who has ever been in love in the history of love, because EVERYONE feels that way about their person of the moment. Puh-leaze. Ain’t nothin special goin on there kids. Unless, when you lock eyes, the known universe reveals its secrets to you, but only if she farts into your mouth and pees on your teeth simultaneously. Because everyone knows THAT’S Real Love®. HOLLA

 

Beauty and Mind: Hair stylists as therapists

This guy coulda used some MAJOR Thairapy. Image via blog.ivman.com

Do you ever feel like things in your life are just a little bit off? Your roots are showing, you hate your clothes more than anything in the world, and cameltoe jokes just don’t make you laugh anymore. I’ve got the solution: Thairapy. A combination of a hair stylist and a therapist to really dig deep into your postmodern woes and better yet, fill your goddamn roots.

I have no idea if this shit exists. It should. I bet it could have in the 90s. Because really, a hair stylist is sort of a therapist. They ask you questions about your life while they’re touching your head, and for some reason this physical contact coupled with the life inquiries causes you to spill anything and everything to your stylist.

She’d be first in line for this shit, no doubt. I LOVE HER. Image via hdofblog.com

It helps that most hair stylists are chatty and like to keep the conversation going while they deal with your split-end situation, but what if our hair stylists were also licensed therapists? We could go in for highlights, a brow wax, and a little existential cleansing. I’m not talking heavy-hitting therapy sessions for people with legitimate weekly therapy sessions, but more like a little check-in with a licensed professional for the rest of us. Think of the breakthroughs! Think of the daring haircuts! “Do you feel like having short hair?” “What do you think this hair color means for your life?” “Your ends are telling me you’ve had a bad month.”

I think we carry so much of who we are and how we feel in our hair and our appearance in general. Constant maintenance or lack thereof for our friendly follicles can really say a lot about where we are in our lives. Craving a new ‘do? Maybe you’re craving a change of scene IRL. Split ends from the past 3 years? What are you holding onto? It could be that some people are just lazy or OCD with their hair, but maybe there lies a little more beneath the surface than just a new cut and color. Who better to dive in that someone who already helps you look and feel amazing? I WANT THIS SERVICE NOW. COME ON AMERICA.