Sunday, March 8, 2015

My first Tinder date

You guyz it is time! I finally went on a Tinder date! Ring out the wild bells ... or something. JTLYK (just to let you know) I will be referring to Tinder as Tindy from now on. I'm unsure why, but it's sticking.

So my Tindy date.

First, I didn't give him my phone number and said that we should meet there. Am I paranoid? Yes. The answer is a hard yes. He thought it was kinda weird, but didn't let on too much so he agreed to meet me at a local eatery.

So this guy's profile says something about being "just a European guys trying to find his way in this world" or something like that. So I'm thinking, "Okay this guy wants to seem exotic, but really he just ate a Aero bar and listened to T Swift and he now feels a connection to the Old Country or something. (But seriously guys mail order an Aero bar. They're so worth it.)

So I wait in front of the restaurant. And wait. And wait. And think, "Wow if I'm getting stood up for my first Tindy experience then I'm going to flip a B and purchase a Little Ceasars pizza and eat the whole thing." (Little Ceasars was right next to me. That is not typically my emotional eating go-to.)

Then, suddenly, he appears. And you guys, he's way cute. Not like a, "Take me I'm yours," kind of cute, but a "Met you in an airplane and we had a connection but we are going to opposite ends of the country and I'll remember you forever," kind of cute.

And he was 100%, adorably, European. Think Massimo off of the wedding planner. Think, foreign, smiley, and happy.

I was enamored.

We got food, sat, and talked for about an hour. We'll call him Massimo, for the sake of the story.

Massimo is passionate about living life. He travels everywhere. I'm pretty sure he is loaded. He didn't want to waste his twenties so he got certified to solo sky dive. He loves meeting people. He is happy. He asked questions, but mostly just talked about himself. He was so fun! And happy! And I just loved it. It was so nice to 1. actually go on a date, and 2. enjoy it.

We were cleaning up and he spoke the words I will never forget:
"Tori, will you care for an ice cream."

YES I WILL CARE FOR ONE, MASSIMO. Past tense, present tense, I'm there.

So we drove in his Audi to get ice cream, and he teased me about getting up the courage to go somewhere with him. He made a lot of jokes that weren't very funny, but I laughed because I couldn't help it. He was just so cute.

We ate the ice cream (he's obsessed with chocolate) and he took me back to my car, and the wonderful scene in the middle of the chick flick where things are just starting to go right for the Kate Hudson-esque character ended. I gave him my phone number and he texted me a little today.

And that was that.

First Tinder date: success.


P.S. Just to give you a little glimpse of my Tindy Massimo:

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Hot or Not

Kim K has been in Paris, and yesterday she debuted a new hairstyle:

Oh hey Kanye

Now I'm not going to say that she looks like she walked off the set of Star Trek or that her hair has a striking resemblance to Legolas, but I will say that Kim Kardashian has made some interesting choices. Like the time she released a sex tape to be famous. Or the time she was married for only 72 days. Or the time that the next guy she married was this guy. And this is, yet again, an interesting choice that I'll have to rate as not hot. We know how pretty our Armenian princess can be, and this look is showing no signs of enhancing her beauty. This look may not break the internet, but it will break her hair. So change it back quick Kim before your hair is too damaged or we'll all be looking like this:


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The Day I Was a Hot Mess

It was a sunny day in April of 2014. I had just started dating the guy of my dreams. He was everything I had hoped for in a guy and more. I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and was so happy to be with someone that I felt so proud of and had such strong feelings for. I didn't want to screw this one up. 

He invited me to go to a basketball game in the city for the evening with all of his friends. He worked close to where the basketball game would be played, and I lived 45 minutes away. Normally when we had gone to events in the city we would drive, but he thought it would be fun to take the train. The plan was after he got off work at 5 p.m. he was going to ride the train to where I was living (what a sweetheart, yeah?), I would meet him at the train station at 6 pm, and at one of the stops on the way back to the city, two of his childhood best friends Nelson and Eleanor, who were married and who I had met once before, would be joining us, and we would be at the game by 7 o’clock, 30 minutes before it started. It was going to be perfect. 

My day started like any other. I had everything planned out. I was going to go to class. Come home by 4 pm. Go to Costco. Buy my favorite wheat bread to make a sandwich for my boyfriend and I to eat on the train as a surprise so that we wouldn’t starve during the game or have to buy an $8 hot dog. Wash and do my hair. Change my outfit. Touch-up my makeup. I was mentally imagining the praises I would get of what a nice girlfriend I was for making such nice sandwiches on such nice bread and how I would be told how good I looked. It was going to be perfect.

The day started, and all was going according to plan. I went to class, came home, was home by 4 pm and went to Costco. I got the bread. By the time I left the store it was around 5. I’d have 1 hour left to wash my hair, find something to wear, and do my makeup. Everything was going to be perfect.

And then something happened that I hadn’t expected or given time for in my schedule: traffic. Not only just traffic from college students and people leaving work, but an accident had happened on the main street of the town, which was the street I needed to get back to my house. Cars were backed up. I was stuck. I watched the clock as the minutes ticked away. Everything was going to work out. It had to.

By the time I got back to my house it was 5:40, and I had 20 minutes until the train left. I was a chicken with my head cut off. I cut chunks of cheese and tomatoes and threw pieces of meat and lettuce on the bread. The sandwiches were so large I could barely fit them it into sandwich baggies, so I smashed them down and put them in my purse with an apple. I ran to my closet. Do I wear the team’s colors or should I go with something neutral? I went for neutral. I threw on a wife beater, a gray cardi, and put on some hoop earrings. I was on my period, so I grabbed some extra tampons.  I ran out to my car. I had 10 minutes to get to the train station, park my car, and get on the train. I could do it. I took a short cut and drove through some neighborhood streets that would eliminate all but one traffic light. I was going 50 down 25’s.  I made it to the one traffic light I needed. It was 5:54. I was getting multiple calls and texts from my boyfriend. I couldn’t answer. Every second I was checking the time and praying the light would turn green. At 5:57 I got the green light. A minute and a half later I was at the train station and was parking the car. It was 5:59. I had never ridden the train before and didn’t know where to go. My boyfriend and a train worker emerged from the train as I was walking to the wrong boarding location and yelled at me, “RUN!” What?? Run? I’m going to look stupid! I ran anyways. I made it on the train. 10 seconds later the door closed and off we went.

I was sweating. The stress of the events were taking a toll on me, and I was exhausted. I thought my boyfriend and I would have more time to be on the train together before his friends arrived. But before I knew it we were at their stop. They boarded and began talking about memories and jokes I knew nothing about. I felt left out, and had felt this way almost every time we were with his friends and family. My mind was racing as I stared out the window, “Is this how it is always going to be? Am I going to just have to sit here all the time? We’ve only been dating a couple of weeks… am I overreacting?” I soon regretted bringing the sandwiches. What was I going to do, pull the smashed sandwiches out of my Mary Poppin’s bag like a PTA mom and eat them in front of his friends? To make matters worse Nelson then said, “Maybe before the game we can get something to eat.” Why did I go to Costco all for this stupid sandwich? I’m an idiot. Eleanor had on an outfit that looked like it was from Banana Republic. I had on a wife beater and hoops. I felt like an idiot. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed help. So naturally I texted Spade:

She told me she would call me, so I went to the lower level of the train and gave her a 1 minute breakdown of everything that was happening. And then Spade told me something that rocked my world: “You are a hot mess.” And I was. With an emphasis on mess. It resonated inside of me and somehow made me feel better. I was on my period. I was sweaty. I felt embarrassed for being late. My boyfriend’s friends probably thought I was rude. I didn’t feel cute. I was... a mess. My only regret was that my sandwich was still upstairs sitting in my purse on my seat. I went and got it, went back downstairs, and ate my sandwich as I cried and laughed with Spade on the phone. Because in the moment I felt terrible, but I knew it was funny. It felt like I was on a sitcom and that the only thing that could make the day worse/episode better was if I spilled some mustard on my shirt. We got to the stadium and as we were about to go inside, I noticed a big sign that said, "No food or drink allowed inside the venue." I panicked. My ticket had already been scanned and soon the security guards would check my purse, discard my sandwich, and my boyfriend would see what an idiot I was. I pretended to receive a phone call and ran outside. I found a trash can just a little out of sight, ducked to the ground, threw out the extra sandwich, and tried to emerge from hiding behind the trash can without my boyfriend seeing, as he scanned the crowds trying to find where I had gone. (Nelson later expressed that he was sad there wasn’t time before the game to go get food. Should’ve brought a sanny, Nels. Should’ve brought a sanny.) But my night changed for the better when we had food passes and I was able to get nachos, a Diet Coke, a cookie, and some popcorn.

Spade and I laugh hysterically about this story now. I, on the regular, make sandwiches for my boyfriend and openly give them to him, which he gratefully receives. I still believe that Coke, queso, a cookie, or popcorn can improve any day. Every day in life is not going to go according to plan. And sometimes you’ve just got to call a friend, laugh, and cry. Some days you’re just going to be a hot mess. And that’s okay.


Sunday, March 1, 2015

Tinder woes and I'm not a [insert word here that rhymes with woe]

I am reconsidering the title of this post, but I just want the whole world to know, "I am not a hoe."

Am I even spelling that correctly? This isn't the garden tool we're talking about. But I'm glad we could segue into tools...

First, a bit of background.
This year my goal is to do things I am uncomfortable with. I am uncomfortable with Tinder because to me it is shallow and demeaning. I'm also uncomfortable with the fact that Tinder is, in fact, real life. You see a person, decide if you think they're attractive, then make your move from there.

I decided to force myself to do Tinder. Mostly because I want to go on dates. I've learned, via Matthew Hussey, a former single (only recently dating) dating coach who told me personally (in his book on tape) that to date you need to meet more people. I need to meet more people because my current pool of men is exhausted (more on that in a later post).

So here I am on Tinder.

I've been on it for the whole month of February.

Here are my Tinder States:
28 days
54 matches
0 dates
5 legitimate conversations
1 casual offer for fun later that night (unsure about what that entailed but I said "Nah")
7 matches with friends I knew well and we just made fun of each other

So I've got a solid 45 people who thought I was something, but did nothing about it.

Cool, Tinder. (I use those words together on purpose for imagery).

What have I decided from this?

I'm going to stay on Tinder until I go on at least ONE TINDER DATE! Is this impossible? I have no clue, but a guy just messaged me with this, "Did you know Cookie Monster's real name is Sid?" So I think things are looking up.