Posts Tagged ‘ Dating ’

Types of Men You Find Online

Sunday, July 1st, 2012

Hello, friends.  After a short hiatus from the world of online dating (because it sucks, you guys), I’m back with more tales of hilarity.  To come to the aid of my fellow single women, I’ve helpfully organized the types of men you meet online into several broad categories.  What can I say?  I’m a giver.

The profile-liar guy.

There is no point in lying on your profile about things that are obvious within five minutes of meeting you in person.  This includes height (6 feet, 5’8″, same diff, right? No.), occupation (a paralegal is not a lawyer, and the guy who keeps the books for a sketchy bowling alley is not an accountant), and general appearance (we’re gonna know it if that photo was taken in 1996, gentlemen).

The “P.S. I live in Colorado” guy.

Why contact me and bother discussing meeting up and dating if you live two thousand miles away?  Next.

The guy with his kids as his profile picture.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about the single dads, but you guys do realize that everyone can see those pictures, right?  Just trying to help.  Because I’m not sure you understand how the internet works.

The fast-mover guy.

A couple of anonymous emails does not a relationship make.  It’s a tad creepy when we’ve exchanged three messages, tops, and you’re calling me “baby” and talking about moving to my area because “nothing’s keeping me here anyway”.  Please, just… stop.

The “separated” guy.

Ladies, this one is straight-up married.  Move it right along.

The guy who insults you in order to hit on you.

This isn’t third grade, guys– if you pick on us, we aren’t going to get the message that you’re interested.  Long emails about how wisdom tooth extractions are a scam are not going to go over well with a dentist, a lecture on how I shouldn’t be so picky since I have “baggage” isn’t going to go over well with a single mom, and messages that say nothing but “hey MILF” are not going to go over well with anyone, unless it’s sent to a woman looking for a guy in my next and final category, which is…

The sugar daddy guy.

You’d be surprised at the number of emails I’ve gotten offering compensation of some kind for dating them.  These guys are all over the place– from the guy who offered me clothes, lingerie, and time on his exercise machines to a guy who offered to pay my bills to the guy who came right out and asked if I was looking for a sugar daddy (“I think there’s a name for women who do that,” I told him sweetly. “It starts with an ‘h’ and ends with an ‘ooker’.”).

Sigh.  I’m getting pretty discouraged with the whole online thing, you guys.  Any categories to add?  Please post them in the comments!  It’s a public service project, really.

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Need a Nanny? Try Speed Dating.

Monday, June 18th, 2012

With my residency complete, my next task has been to focus on finding a nanny in Massachusetts to take care of Caroline for the summer before her new preschool opens.

(Side note: this new preschool is totally badass.  It’s a Montessori school where she can take Spanish and music and art and yoga and Zumba.  Not joking.  I basically want to go to it myself and send Caroline off to work in my dental office to support us.  I mean, she’s already got the scrubs.  But I digress.)

Faced with this task, I tackled it with my usual crazy-intense full-tilt totally-inappropriate approach: I went all in, you guys.  I did nanny speed dating.

I used to post an ad for a nanny (did not include Caro’s Tumblr, though I should have) and was promptly overwhelmed by over thirty applicants for the job.  In all seriousness, that website is great.  The vast majority of the applicants were well-qualified and seemed very nice, and they do the background checks for you.  No, I’m not getting paid by them to write this– it’s just the truth.

Problem is, with all those applicants and all the online dating I’ve been doing lately, I was afraid I was going to mix up my accounts and start hitting on the nannies and trying to hire the single men.  Which I’m pretty sure is illegal in at least 48 states.  (Although, wait a minute… that actually sounds like a more successful dating strategy than anything else I’ve tried lately…)

Anyway.  I managed to narrow the field to six potential nannies, and scheduled to meet all of them in half-hour blocks this afternoon.  Let’s just pause for a minute and discuss how incredibly awkward I am and should never be allowed to interview anyone for anything, ever.

Okay, good talk.  Glad I could share that with you guys.

It was a rather tedious afternoon of saying the same thing over and over and asking the same questions over and over, trying to politely dismiss them before the next one walked in while we were chatting.  One of the nannies actually called me out on it:

Me: (glancing at the door) Okay, well, thanks for coming by!  I’ll be in touch about the position.  Nice to meet you!

Her: Are you cycling all your potential nannies through here this afternoon, like, one right after another?

Me: What? No. (guilty look)

Her: (irritated) You’re doing this like speed dating, aren’t you?

Me: HAHAHA!  That’s exactly what this is like!  That’s hilarious!  I love it!

Her: ::blank stare::

Yeah, I didn’t hire her.  I don’t think we’re that compatible.  We’d never work out in the long run.  We just want different things, you know?  (It’s not her… it’s me.)

In the end, I found a great girl to come and hang out with Caroline this summer while I’m working, and hopefully help ease her transition to a new home, a new preschool, her father moving away, and whatever else we have in store for us.  Speed dating was a pretty efficient way to find her, too.  And now it’s on to the next task: moving to a new home, with a three year old in tow, and no help.

Anyone know of a speed dating service for movers?

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Actual Messages from Online Dating

Tuesday, June 5th, 2012

You guys, you truly are not going to believe the crazies I have found on the internet since I started this whole online dating adventure.  I thought I was crazy… but these guys take it to a whole nother level.  I submit here several messages for your consideration, copied and pasted verbatim for your enjoyment.

Let’s begin with my most… ah… mature suitor.  He is 49 years young and his screenname is “slosoftkissr” and no I am not even joking a little bit about that.  His profile consists of a long jumble of repetitive insanity that I honestly could not get through and this is the first message he contacted me with:

“have a 1200 sq. ft. gym in my home,perhaps I can entice you with one day,however,I liked your ad & I think, feel ,demonstrate & represent a much younger and energetic gentlman,generally I enjoy the company af a younger gal,as my stamina & endurance are a drive only the young can appreciate,I MEAN YOU LOOK SO GOOD IN YOUR PIC’S YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BUY YOU NEW CLOTHES FOR EVEN MORE GREAT LOOKS,I DO HAVE A VICTORIA SECRET CARD,esp.I LIKE YOUR THIRD PIC,IT’S MY SCREENSAVER,CALL ME,WHERE PERSONALITY,EMOTION AND CHARISMA,SHINE THROUGH.(he gives his name and phone number here).AS A FORMER TICKET AGENT WE’LL NEVER BE OUT OF IDEAS ON HOW TO HAVE FUN.”

Okay.  Dude? Number one: you’re f—ing crazy.  Number two: you’re old enough to be my dad (I’m 28).  Number three: you’re f—ing crazy!  I was actually contemplating meeting up with this guy just so I could share the undoubted hilarity that would follow with you guys, but then I got to the screensaver comment and now I just want to take 40 showers and delete any and all pictures myself that I have ever posted on the internet, anywhere.  I also probably need to start drinking heavily.

Needless to say, I did not reply to this creepster’s first message.  Not to be deterred, the very next day he sent me this:


Just… no.  Blocked this dude so fast, you guys.

Next up: a 43 year old “hobbyist” (?) who, um, certainly fulfills my requirement of liking kids.  In fact, he’s probably got that covered a little too well.  His first message:

“You are fine and your kid probably is too :)

You life is just starting and I want to be there with you having all that fun :)

I’m sorry.  Did you just hit on my three year old?  Blocked.  So fast.  Again.

So it seems the verdict is in: I attract the crazies online just like I do in real life.  I knew this online dating stuff was a bad idea.  But it’s like a trainwreck, you know?  It’s so terrible, yet you just can’t look away…

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Must Love Kids

Thursday, May 31st, 2012

Okay, internet, I have a confession.  Due to the boring lack of activity in my dating life lately, and the fact that I am about to move to an area where I know literally no one, I’ve decided to take the plunge into online dating.  (I’m not sure why, but I’m literally cringing while confessing this to you guys.)  At least it will allow me to meet new people (not in bars, for the love of God) and if nothing else, make some new friends in the area I’m going to be moving to.

So, I’m trying it.  Is there something about it that seems vaguely pathetic to me?  Yes.  Do I actually think I’ll find someone that way?  Not really.  Am I going to get all crazy-chainsaw-murdered and stuffed in the trunk of somebody’s car?  Probably.  But all that aside, I bet it’s gonna be pretty entertaining, and I’m dragging all of you along for the ride with me.  Because that’s how much I love you people.

So aside from all the awkward conversation and presumably a hefty dose of rejection and probably being murdered, the worst part about this online dating stuff is writing a profile.  Mine is something super awkward and lame about liking to run and whatnot and people probably fall asleep just reading it.

If I didn’t actually care about getting any responses, though, I”d probably write something brutally honest and totally weird, just like the real me:

I am seeking a: Man

Do you drink?: Only when potty training.  My daughter, not me.  I’m fully housebroken and have been for at least ten years.

Marital status: Divorced.  Don’t judge me.  I see you over there, judging me.

Profession: I’m not as hot as a dental hygienist, but I went to school for longer.

Education: Someday I will leave school and get a real job, probably.

Do you want children?: I’m all set right now, thanks for offering.

Do you do drugs?: Only caffeine.  Well, and then there’s the speed.  I mean, I do have a toddler, after all.

Do you have children?: Oh boy do I ever.

Do you have a car?: …What the f–k?  Wait, there are people on here without cars?  Can I get a refund?

I am looking for: Basically a smart, fun, hilarious, educated, good-looking guy who loves kids and isn’t a douchebag.  Must have a job and a car and not live in parents’ basement.  Must shower regularly.  Must not be an axe murderer.

About me: Well I’m a single mom and a dentist, don’t hold it against me.  My daughter is my whole world, so mess with her and I’ll kill you.  I work too much but I love my job to a degree that is a little bit pathetic.  I can be kind of a pain in the ass sometimes.  Example: one of the last guys I dated told me I should dye my hair blonde because it would look better so I dyed it dark brown just to piss him off.  This isn’t coming out right, is it.  Oh, the other thing is, I write about my life for the website of a major magazine but don’t worry, I won’t use your real name.  Probably.  You know what?  Try to forget that thing I just said about writing.  There’s a crapton of super personal stuff on that site about my divorce.  Let’s change the subject.  …..I like long walks on the beach?  I’m going to stop talking now.

First date: Something that doesn’t involve crazy-chainsaw-murdering me.

Interests: My daughter.  Teeth.  My daughter.  Teeth.  My daughter.  Wine.

So, what do you guys think?  Would you date me?  Would anyone?

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Job: I Have One.

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2012

Well, after all kinds of back and forth and craziness regarding my future employment, I can finally say that I’ve settled on something and gotten a job.

An awesome job.  In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s about as good as this whole “job” thing gets.  (I wouldn’t know.  I’m 28 and have been in school for-literally-effing-ever, so I have never had a real one before.)

I’m going to be an associate at a private practice in Massachusetts, about 45 minutes from where Caroline and I live now.  It’s a busy and successful practice with two other super-nice young doctors who also have kids, the office is beautiful, and my hours are perfect: Monday and Tuesday 8-7, and Friday 8-5.  I’ll have to find a sitter I trust to pick her up on my long days, but this will leave me four full days of the week to spend with Caroline.  And this poor child has been in daycare from 7:15am to 5:30pm nearly every day of her life since I went back to dental school and then residency, two and a half years ago.  I am so excited to actually make a comfortable living and still be able to spend more time with my daughter… particularly since her father is moving eight hours away, and I’m sure she’s going to be somewhat… out of sorts.

Basically, it’s my dream come true, I think.  I have worked so hard for this.

So all of that is a huge relief and very exciting.  I’ll be finishing my residency at the end of June and starting at this practice in early July, assuming I can get a Massachusetts license by then, because as it turns out, it is the most giant pain in the butt ever to acquire a Massachusetts dental license.  I need to pass a physical and take a legal exam and get a passport photo taken and donate a kidney and give up my firstborn child and wait, I’m not even sure what we’re talking about anymore, but all of that seems reasonable, no?  Thanks a lot, Massachusetts.  We might never be friends.

Caroline and I also found the most adorable house for rent ever, located in a fancy-pantsy town nearby, so we are waiting to hear back about whether or not we are cool enough to live there.  I suspect we might not be, seeing as how I have been known in the past to forget to pay my bills until whatever I’m not paying for gets shut off (well played, cable company) and I am a scandalously single young mom.  But, we will see.

So, things are looking pretty good for me and Caroline these days.  As my friend says, “Great kid, great job, great future– only one piece is missing now, Jules…” She means men, of course, and although I have pretty phenomenally terrible luck in that category, I’m sure that someday, all of that will work itself out, too.

And if it doesn’t?  That’s okay.  Because I’ve got my dream job… and I’ve got my baby.

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