So it’s 10 days into 2014 and I’m already feeling the need for another Festivus so I can air my grievances. (That’s a good sign for the year to come, right?!)
Remember when I expressed my feelings (vented, ranted, bitched…whatever) about dating as a fitness competitor?
Via some R&D (Research and Development, to my non-office folkz), I discovered that a lot of women (ladies, babes, females, etc.) experience similar trials and tribulations when it comes to dating.
I’m still training as a fitness competitor, but I realized that…
DATING AS A REGULAR 20-SOMETHING GIRL IS AWFUL.
I used to have a type and I was picky as a toddler in a 5-star restaurant. And I guess I still kind of do have a type, but I’ve become more …lenient, because let’s face it: I’m probaaaably not going to date Jake Gyllenhaal’s doppelganger. (Note: I’ve accepted and embraced that fact after four years of intensive therapy of Fudgeeos and movie marathons.)
So I’m about to list a bunch of issues I have experienced with dating in the 21st century as a fairly well-adjusted (LOL) female.
Disclaimer: To all you self-proclaimed “nice guys” who are really just whiny babies in a larger musculoskeletal frame…yes, I’m aware that I may be generalizing, but like I mentioned above, these are lessons/tidbits/FUN THINGS I learned whilst dating.
How do I [despise] thee, dating? Let me count the ways:
- I feel I must elaborate on my definition Self-Proclaimed “Nice Guy”. He is a creature I have encountered many times in the past few years. If his conversations were tweets, his lifetime trending topic may be #FriendZone. He whines about being stuck in the said #friendzone, but has probably never expressed feelings for the lady. However, 85% of the time, it is a case of a lack of this fun little phenomenon called CHEMISTRY, which is necessary for a healthy relationship to blossom/even freaking exist. Science should have taught us (or you) that weak-willed/annoying/whiny does not equal nice.
- Texting. This is literally the serial killer of dating. A few days ago, I told my friend Kim that I’m thinking about only giving my house phone number to interested suitors. LET’S TAKE IT BACK TO THE 90S, BABY. She did not share my excitement for this solution. Did you/he/she call? Did you/he/she not? Only one thing tells me if you’re interested or not. Boom. Can it all be so simple?!
- Fun Tip! If you never initiate conversation via texting (the preferred method of communication by single adults today), most females assume you are not interested. Waiting around for her to text you? Chances are she’s BEEN initiating conversation with you for the past week/month/decade. If you want to say hi, say freaking hi. Games are for children, seniors, and unfaithful pro athletes.
- Honesty. This seems to be a rare quality in (single/not-so-single) human males today. How many times have my girl friends and I gotten into a heated discussion about how “if he just told me up front, I would have never gotten angry!” (If I had a penny for every time, I’d be able to buy that Range Rover. That’s all I can say.) Hey, see Point 1. I am quite aware that I can get friendzoned or you know, maybe you’re not attracted to me (….obviously you have some sort of severe personality and eye disorder if you’re not. Jokez.) So if you’re not into me, just say it.
- IF YOU’RE NOT INTO ME, JUST SAY IT. (I am five first dates away from getting this tattooed on my forehead. Or perhaps I’ll make it into some sort of promotional business card.) Don’t drag me along like the dutty blanket you had as a kid but couldn’t quite let go as you grew older, because WHAT IF YOU NEEDED IT?! I’m a big girl. I wear my big girl panties almost every day. I can handle the truth. I am less likely to tear you a new one if you’re 100% honest. I’m five feet tall, 120 pounds: don’t tell me you’re scared of me. Text it to me. Lawd, help me.
- Open Communication. Maybe this is just me, but I find talking about “relationships” and “boundaries/definitions” always a sticky situation. I hate talking about feelings but I’m always curious about how others feel, so lkjshflakjsh arrrgh. I feel intrusive if I ask, but if you don’t tell me, I won’t know. (Note: As I write this, I find myself very aware that I seem like a 90s rom-com girl …am I?! Aiiii.) Anyways, all I want to know is if you are just looking to get some cookie for your nookie OR maybe you want to be the next Ariel and Eric. My time is more precious/valuable/expensive than Kim Kardashian’s divorce lawyer: do. not. waste. it. If you want to introduce me to your brother and his girlfriend and hold my hand and pretend you’re into me juuuust to get into my spandex …be open and honest about it. Please don’t jump through all these confusing hoops I like to call MIXED SIGNALS. Maybe I, too, only want to have a nighttime soiree with your candy-coated critter. WHO KNOWS, YOUNG STUNNA? You’ll never know if you don’t freaking say it. Don’t make something seem like it’s something that it’s not. (Yes, that is a direct quote from yours truly. I’m the next Sartre.)
- SAY WHAT YOU FEEL. Don’t tell me you’re experiencing indigestion from Burrito Boyz…I don’t want to hear about that shit. Literally. But do tell me if you want to hang out/hate me/like me/just want to get #nekkid. Don’t wait three days or until the full moon has rose again. Are you getting your courtship tips from a 1994 issue of Seventeen?! Seriously, dude.
Needless to say, I hope I didn’t seem like someone who went totally cuckoo bananas, but I just had to get some stuff off my chest. Perhaps if any guys read my blog, they could shed some light on the situation. I didn’t grow up with brothers so I’m 50 shades of clueless when it comes to guys and I’m just learning as I go along. And yes, I’m aware of the wise mantra of “it’s not you, it’s me.” Maybe it’s me! Who knows.
But let’s be serious. I put a Wu Tang clip in this post.
…WHY WOULDN’T I BE YOUR DREAM GIRL?!