Dating throughout the decades.

Last night I had a conversation with one of my best friends about her recent dating experiences.  She was complaining about how exhausting the whole process is and how much she hated it.  It got me thinking about how long some of us have been playing the game, and yet we’re still stuck on the same level.   

I would like to think the idea of dating began as far back as elementary school.  I can remember telling my mom I had a “boyfriend” named Billy in the second grade.  I probably would have started sooner, but cootie shots were not made readily available until around then (circle, circle, dot, dot).   Billy and my romance lasted about a week until Timmy showed up with a better flavored snack pack, and I had to move on.  When Charlie had fruit snacks, it was all over for poor Timmy.  I really think this behavior set the tone for how we were all going to treat future dating prospects.  It’s all about the upgrade.

In junior high I stopped my gold digging ways and got a little more mature.  I no longer used the term “boyfriend” but rather told my mom me and whomever were “going out.”  Where the hell were we going?  We didn’t see each other outside of school, however, we exchanged mix tapes, and we sat together at lunch so everyone knew we were clearly in love.  I mean, you don’t bring out the big guns (aka Boyz to Men) for just anyone.

High school got a bit more complicated.  It went something like this…hormones, hormones, I hate him, I love him, hormones, you are my soul mate, we are soooooooooooooo over, hormones.  Ah, good times.  Your entire relationship is based off who is popular that week or whomever has a car, and to think…you thought you had given up on your shallow habits…

I really don’t feel you have a normal concept of what dating is until after high school.  College is around the time you begin to raise your standards.  You start to realize there are so many fish in the sea, and you want to eat them all of them.  I mean, who doesn’t like sushi? At this point, you date anyone and everyone because you are trying to figure out who you are and who you are compatible with.  You will undoubtedly pretend to be everything you are not, into sports you don’t understand, and into bands you would rather turn deaf than have to listen to another one of their songs.   Eventually you will figure it out, but by the time you do you are in your late 20s, and everyone is becoming a little less attractive.

This is around the time all of your friends will start to get married and have babies.  You will start to notice the pool of potential mates begins to dwindle.  Your once high standards have gone from, “Where does he work and how much money does he make?” to “Does he have a job? No? Well, does he at least have all his hair?”  Sheer panic will start to set in, and you will find yourself browsing Eharmony just to see what’s out there.  Don’t worry, if you wait it out a few more years, all the divorcées will start to surface.  Who wouldn’t want to date a man with a crazy ex-wife, a whole terminal full of baggage, and a bunch of dysfunctional children that wouldn’t even be tolerable if you gave birth to them yourself?

For those of you single ladies about to hang yourselves, don’t worry.  There are some perks to this whole dating game.  Think of all the free meals, designer handbags, and orgasms you have received over the past decade…a little token of appreciation from the dating Gods for years of emotional abuse.  It could be worse…you could have married that guy who skied in his jeans.  Guys, think of all the crazy bullets you have dodged in the past and be thankful you didn’t marry that girl who used to watch you sleep. 

Jackie the Craigslist Killer

If we are not friends on Facebook, you missed this little gem so I would like to share an enteratining story with all of you... A few months ago I was looking for a roommate so I posted an ad on Craigslist.  I never expected to receive the amount of responses I did, including one in particular.  Here is my ad and what unfolded...

Roommate needed for 9/1.  About the place... 2nd floor apt in an older building in LP with cast iron ceilings, hardwood floors, living room, dining room, decent sized kitchen and one bathroom. Located close to Depaul...about a ten min walk to the red line. It's a 2 1/2 bedroom...I say that because the third bedroom is small, and right now is being used as 'the girl room'...housing my roommate's and my shoes, make up, jewelry etc. If you are a girl, you will love it...if you are a guy, you can use it as storage. If you are a gay guy, you can do both!

About me...30 year old female, college grad, works during the week as a personal assistant and part time nanny and for a vodka company on the weekends. That's right people, free booze! Woooo!  I don't go out much or have people over during the week, but I do like to go out on the weekend and will sometimes bring my drunk friends back to eat Mexican food on the kitchen floor (even though I have a dining room table and chairs) and have random dance parties. We have pretty sweet moves so don't worry...although our music choices at that hour may be questionable...speaking of music, It's just about my favorite thing ever so I attend lots of shows so be prepared to be dragged to a few (thousand)...I am just looking for someone who is cool, has similar values and interests and IS CLEAN. I have lived with some people who had questionable hygiene, and well needless to say...I no longer live with them. I am not a neat freak by any means...I just don't want to have to throw down every time the bathroom needs to be cleaned... I sometimes smoke, but only on the back porch so you won't die of second hand smoke....maybe alcohol poisoning, but definitely not lung cancer. Other than that...do what you want. I'm pretty laid back, and that's really the only thing that grinds my gears (bonus points if you are a Family Guy fan and caught that reference)... 

Please don't waste either of our time if...                                                    
You are into drugs normal people stopping doing by the time they were 20.          
If you are boring as shit (I mean seriously...If I would rather watch paint dry than have a conversation with you, save your breath)                                          
You are a Republican...hahaha I'M KIDDING so don't start calling your lawyer, ...what I mean is if you have values that reflect hate or judgement against complete strangers well then I hate you! How does it feel? Huh? HUH?!            
 You don't appreciate some finely tuned sarcasm (obviously)                            
 or if you don't think the Sandlot was one of the greatest movies of all time...
*that last one is a deal breaker.

Here is a response I received from a lovely lady named Jackie...  "nobody is gonna wanna live with someone who brings there friends back to eat tacos on the floor and dance. lemme gues you're a friggin cheesy ass white girl who has really terribly pathetic friends. u dont like people who drugs but u sound like a desperate crackhead. grow up - no one wants to live in that sad shabby apt.with a weirdo like u"  

How could I not respond? I mean after all, she took time out of her day to write me..."Dear

Jackie, 

       First off let me say your grammar is impeccable. You must be an English major? I mean, one can only assume... Second of all, I never said we eat tacos...I personally prefer to eat burritos, but if you prefer tacos that is your prerogative. Let me also add, dancing is a great form of cardio. You should give it a try. Regarding your conclusions about me and my friends.... I mean considering you have met me and everyone I am friends with, you must know exactly what you are talking about. I think it's safe to assume you yourself enjoy doing drugs? Congratulations on the drug use...it really seems to be helping your creative juices flow. You must have one hell of an imagination if you can call my apartment sad and shabby when I have not posted any pictures of it. Then again, you are probably psychic because you know everything about me and my friends you have never met. I forgot, sorry. Finally, how does one grow up? I am rather short and have been trying for years...I hope I addressed all your issues, and you have yourself a wonderful day...and by wonderful day, I mean, go fuck yourself."

I never expected to hear from her again, however she promptly responded...

"Awesome u like to point to our grammar.  its a friggin email. AND Of course u eat burritos on the floor at your awesum apt.  You're probably also overweight but still cute ? right ? right ? you're a typical lincoln park loser. who would make anyone feel unwelcome and just pain annoyed living there.  yur ad is seriously a joke. u should be embarrased/please post pics of your apartment. im sure its fabulous.  living with you would be fucking myself so, i'd pass."

I was having too much fun to not respond one last time... 

"Dear Jackie, 

              Hey!  Thanks for again for taking time out of your busy day to write me back.  I know how hard it must be to squeeze in some hateful messages before lunch.  Good thing you are great with time management.  I would add that to the "special skills" section of your resume' right below grammar/spelling extraordinaire. I appreciate your concern with my weight, but I look pretty good so you can stop worrying!  It must be all that dancing I do that burns off the burritos I tend to enjoy on the weekends.  However, I am still cute so thanks for asking!  I find it super fascinating that you have met everyone in Lincoln Park so you can come to that conclusion about all of us without sounding like an asshole.  I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for, but just some helpful words of advice...if you hate Lincoln Park so much, you may want to stop looking at ads for apartments there.  Finally, I'm deeply saddened that after all our beautiful, meaningful conversations, you do not want to be my roommate.  I truly don't know how I am going to sleep at night."  

 I still wonder where she ended up living, and if her current (former?) roommates are still alive.  Jackie, if you are reading this, I somehow manage to get my beauty sleep every night so you can lift that weight of your conscience once and for all.

You are an asshole.

If you still have your tongue, belly button, or nipple pierced, you are an asshole.

If you have ever grown a handle bar mustache for any other reason besides a joke/lost bet, you are an asshole.

If you go to a karaoke bar and you can actually sing, you are an asshole.

If you used to like Limp Bizkit, you are an asshole. If you still like them, I’m sorry, and you’re still an asshole.

Idiots.

For those of you who missed last night/this morning’s festivities, I got into a twitter war with Jenna Jameson (and her followers).  I know what you’re thinking… who gets into an argument with a former porn star over the internet?  Well I do of course!  I DO NOT follow her on twitter, nor would I normally care about ANYTHING she has to say, but a friend of mine happened to re-tweet something she posted about President Obama which I found very humorous: “Dear Mr President, stop partying with Jay-Z and Beyonce and focus on your JOB.  Our troops are dying while you are acting like a socialite.”  I simply told her she should focus on her job and “Get fucked.”   She then responded promptly, and I had to put her in her place again.  

I haven’t heard anything else from her, but her Republican fan club has been verbally attacking me all day.  Seriously, this all started because I insulted a porn star.  A FUCKING porn star with a new found passion for politics. No one else finds this concept amusing?

I have been called every name in the book, told everything that is wrong with my physical appearance, and called uneducated. I guess my three college degrees are not enough for some people to think I am more intelligent than a washed up adult film star.  I must have missed her valedictorian speech at Harvard.  ValenDICtorian…ah, so many jokes.

I didn’t bother to respond to them individually but rather as a whole with, “I think a really good way to get your political views across intelligently is to insult my physical appearance.  Nice job people with out avatars.”  I know personally it really hurts my feelings when people (so hideous they can’t even rally up one decent photo suitable for a profile picture) point out whatever flaws they think I have.  You really told me Mr. nameless, faceless, tough guy behind a computer screen.  I just may lose sleep over this, never.

So many people are idiots that if I had to write each of them back individually, I wouldn’t have time to keep all of you entertained with all my random antics. I promise to continue to be me and say what I want regardless if complete strangers want to tear me a new one over the internet or not. I’m taking one for the team, Miss Jameson…not “taking one from the team”…there’s a difference.

Who knew porn stars had so much time on their hands.

Who knew porn stars had so much time on their hands.

I have a way with words.

I have a way with words.

Romantic comedies are ruining my life.

I generally like to think I have some good taste in movies.  I love Reservoir Dogs, The Usual Suspects, The Goonies, Shaun of the Dead…you know, the classics.  My favorite movie of all time is The Sandlot. If you don’t like that movie you probably don’t like puppies either, and you have no soul. You should go ahead and stop reading my blog now because we will never see eye to eye, and most likely I will want to fight you. 

As much as I hate to admit this, I love me some romantic comedies as well. Even romantic melodramas that make you cry until you ruin your make up are still top notch in my book.  I have the sense of humor of a fifteen year old boy and the mouth of a truck driver at times, but every now and then, the girl in me sneaks out to watch The Notebook.   Give me any movie where some sad, pathetic girl gets the guy clearly out of her league or one where two people who refuse to admit they love each other suddenly discover it after an hour and a half of witty banter.  You can throw any guy that is/looks like Ryan Gosling or Ryan Reynolds in the mix, and in my eyes, you have some pure cinematic gold.  As much as I love these types of films, they are ruining my life.  They are ruining all our lives, and here’s why…

No men look like either Ryan or Channing Tatum in real life.  There is a reason they are famous.  On top of those faces, they have the bodies of Greek Gods, who mind you, are in fact Gods.  I’m sure your buddy Tommy was great in his high school rendition of Fiddler on the Roof, but he won’t be getting discovered any time soon.  Does anyone really think Matthew Mcconaughey is a magnificent actor?  He sure is fun to look at though. Unfortunately for us ladies (and gay men), there aren’t slews of these fine specimens crowding our local Starbucks, and you men can’t honestly tell me you see rows of Mila Kunis or Natalie Portmans waiting for the bus either.  People who look like this must be admired from afar so the rest of us don’t hang ourselves because we don’t and never will.

Another reason why romance films will be the end of us all is no one that attractive is building any of us a house with their bare hands, especially not while we are off having sex with another ridiculously good looking person.  So far, no one has harbored a 4 year long crush on me since we both shared the same breakfast pastry on the first day of school, and much to my dismay, Ashton Kutcher is not singing Bon Jovi’s “I’ll be there for you,” to me in my courtyard.

Take a minute to think about this concept as well…in nearly every one of these movies, the female lead spends copious amounts of time looking for “the one” when he is always right under her nose since the beginning…most of the time he is even helping her try to land the man of her dreams, but she will not realize he is that man until the last ten minutes of the movie.  Does that mean, in order to get my happy ending, I will have to wait until the last scene of my movie otherwise known as my life?  I am going to waste all this time dating the wrong guys when the right one is possibly my childhood best friend.  Maybe it’s a former bad boy I helped reform or could it be that guy who lives across the hall?  Who is he!?  Are you him?  Do you know him?  Is that guy at that Thai place who gives me extra fortune cookies him?  Shit.  

All these movies are doing is setting up women with unrealistic expectations about what men are actually capable of doing.  Sorry ladies, but most of them are not creative enough to organize a flash mob in Grand Central Station.  However, does that mean I am going to stop watching them? Not a chance.   I’m going to continue to watch them for the same reason I continue to eat chocolate even though it will make me fat…because even if I know it’s bad for me, how could I deprive myself of something so temporarily delightful.