Live by the Golden Rule…unless it’s funny not to.

I am generally against sharing OkCupid usernames and photos, and I try not to do it, and whenever I do, I always feel bad, because I wouldn’t want anyone sharing MINE.

That said… I’m not even sure what to make of this combination of things, but it amused me.

Possibly because this is MOST DEFINITELY what Jesus would do?

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Discounted snacks v. discounted dating

It probably speaks volumes about my romantic future that today I received email coupons from both OkCupid and Grubhub, and deleted the OKC one without reading it, but hopped on that Grubhub shit like white on rice. (Especially since I used it to order Indian food, so literal white rice is forthcoming. As is my true soulmate, paneer.)

Oh, good. I didn’t doom humanity.

This guy wrote me back, so don’t worry, my dating preferences didn’t just doom the future. (Not that the future’s lookin’ all that rosy, anyway, but at least *I* didn’t break it by hitting on a Muppet enthusiast.)

Kermit Kismet

About an hour ago I sent a guy a first OkCupid message, and this is one of those times I feel like, if he doesn’t write back, he’s just screwing up the natural order of things.

Like, “Hi. You’re cute, and your profile pic is you with a Kermit on your shoulder. We have to at least be friends. Like, NOW. Write me back before some ‘Butterfly Effect’ shit happens.”

This is a perfectly logical life plan.

I have this habit of intending to respond to OkCupid messages, but then I forget about it, or I want to wait until I’m at a computer instead of my phone, and then suddenly a week has passed and I think, “Well, if I really wanted to reply, I would’ve made it more of a priority,” so I just delete the message.

When I told my therapist about this, she said, “Hey, maybe don’t do that? You saved those messages for a reason. Either write back or delete them, but letting them sit in your inbox makes them just another to-do item looming in your brain, making you feel like you’re behind on life and bad at being an adult.”

So, um… Can y’all write these dudes back?

Apparently I have hella issues and emotional walls and I think I’m boring so I don’t want to waste anyone’s time? I didn’t know these things about myself — never go to therapy. “I would’ve made it more of priority” sounds far less tragic, like I’m just such a busy, baller boss bitch that I don’t have time for you people and your penises.

But hey, you know what? Frankly I’m doing these men a favor. If I never answer, they’ll never get any of my Crazy on them, and then no one gets hurt. I’ll just continue hiding in my little Singleton cave and never getting laid and letting these feelings deepen and fester until I’m a crazy, old cat lady who dies alone and the cats eat my face. What’s the problem? The cats will be fed!

(Ahem. Why, yes, it has occurred to me that perhaps I should be in therapy twice a week.)

“You ain’t seen me crazy yet.”

I have a lot of weird little things I consider immediate red flags in dating profiles. Some, yeah, I’m basically Chandler Bing, but there are a few I maintain are just good sense.

One is, if he seems to be implying most women are crazy, even (especially?) as a joke.

But other than this one comment — which I think is…BORDERLINE red flag… like…a pale red… and the flag is small — this man seems nice, smart, and attractive, and sent me a perfectly polite first message.

So I’m going to answer, but let the record show, my guard is UP. FIGHT MY CRAZY, BROSEPH.