Soulmakeup

This is the most excited I’ve ever been by Bumble.

“Dying alone is fine.”

Therapist: “So, how’s dating? Have you written anyone back on the apps?”

Me: “Of course not, don’t be absurd.”

Therapist: “You know, if you don’t WANT to be dating…”

Me: “It’s not that I don’t WANT to. It’s just… Like we’ve talked about, I want someone who’ll fit into my life, which is pretty decent with just me — well, minus the depressive bits. And I’d SUPER like to have some sex. But about once a month I’ll hear something terrible about a man and I’ll think, ‘Ya know…I don’t really need one of those. Dying alone is fine.’ So I guess I’m just not in a hurry.”

Nope, you ruined it.

I saw a guy on Bumble I might like to get to know better, but his profile said “SB/SD welcome.”

I am An Old and had NO idea what that meant. So I Googled it at work, which is how you should always learn about something you’ve never heard of that’s pretty likely to be some freaky sex shit.

Not REALLY, but turns out it’s “sugar baby/sugar daddy,” and…ew.

Dude, I just wanna fuck you — why you gotta make it weird?

The only way I need YOU to pamper me is by going down on me for a respectable length of time. I can handle my own…spa treatments or jewelry or whatever the hell.

Plus, I think I’m too old to be a “sugar baby.” I threw up in my mouth a bit just typing it. 🤢

My needs are simple, but very specific.

One of my dating matches asked about my “guilty pleasure” entertainment choices, and aside from “I never feel guilty about pleasure,” which just sounds filthy in a way I’m not yet going for… I dunno, I’m pretty open about the lame shit I like. I’m not trying to make a guy go to a Pistol Annies show with me, or watch “Jane the Virgin,” or go see “Legally Blonde: the Musical” the 47 more times I’M totally gonna go see it before it leaves Philly. I don’t need you for that.

I mean, I AM gonna need you to like John Mulaney so I know you’re not a goddamn soulless monster, but I don’t feel guilty about that at all. A lady has to have standards, sir.

Bumble Rumble

I spoke to my therapist about my anxiety in talking to men on dating apps, and she said, “Well, if you don’t want to, you don’t want to, and that’s perfectly fine. But all the other things you said might be holding you back, you don’t seem sure you don’t want to. And the only way you’re going to be sure is if you try.”

So I wrote to FIVE entire Bumble guys, including Hot Chef, and of course everyone except Hot Chef wrote me back. *grumble* FINE.

But also, and this is the important part — they wrote me back, and then, after 24 hours of still feeling like I might throw up every time I tried to respond, I DID respond.

Full disclosure: It REALLY helps when it’s early and all you have to do to “respond” is copy/paste what you did over the weekend. But I DID it, is the point. So hopefully I’ll have an answer, an orgasm, or at least some quality first-date stories, soon.

See, THIS is why I shouldn’t be alone with my thoughts.

This is kind of a lot for a Saturday morning, but I need it out of MY head, so I’ll just vomit it along to you fine people!

I’m going to talk to my therapist about this on Monday, and I’m really not looking forward to it, because I don’t even know where to start in figuring it out.

I don’t know why I can’t just TALK to guys on dating apps. Every time I try to, I freeze up, get anxious, and run away. And I don’t know if it’s because I don’t actually want to date, or that I think I’d feel overwhelmed if I added that to my life (which often already overwhelms me — thanks, Anxiety!), or if I’m scared to…get hurt? To have something actually work out?

I’ve tried thinking about it and I got nothin’. Maybe I just believe I’ll meet someone in person like I always have — online dating has never gotten me anyone worthwhile, so maybe I’m convinced it’s not worth it. I don’t go out a TON, but I go out more than I used to, so it’s not like online is the only way I’m going to meet men.

Do I just really not want to shave my legs more often?

My guess is that it’s all of the above. But if I really don’t want to or don’t think it’s worth it, then I should just delete the accounts and stop wasting everyone’s time.

Ugh. Therapy is gonna suuuuuck. She’s going to make me…feel feelings. And ahhh, fuck, I BET she asks about my dad. 🤢

All my shit is so textbook that they can’t even PUT it in textbooks because it’s too easy. You could tell a toddler my business and they’d be like, “Well, yeah, obviously…”

This is some “4-Day Workweek” shit, right here…

I have a Bumble crush on a chef, and it just occurred to me that dating a chef would be a very efficient one-stop shop for all the things I need in my body.

He’d be a timesaver, really.

Be kind, remind.

Yessir. “Kindness” is *absolutely* the primary take-home message in your dating profile.

Bumble Fumble

So what do we think the odds are that VincenT misspelled his own name?

Curtains, camo, cake, and Crazy Eyes.

I texted a guy’s dating profile photo to a friend…

Her: “Hard pass. The curtains. I can’t get past the curtains.”

Me: “Holy shit, I didn’t even notice the curtains! They got lost behind the camo, the cake, and the Crazy Eyes!”

Her: “I’d like to give him props for making that cake, but that’s a Shoprite liner. He didn’t make that shit.”

I’m not posting the whole photo here because I’m not a COMPLETE asshole, but here are the offending curtains, and a bit of the camo.

NB: I am complete shit at home decor, so I’m not judging anyone’s style — I don’t even HAVE curtains. But I do have very mild OCD, and that mismatch would drive me batshit insane.