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402 days. 402 (plus or minus… mostly minus) posts.

Category: Dating

Day 1100: Kind of a big deal

My fiancé and I are getting married sometime in the next two weeks, depending on how you look at it (we picked a destination wedding, so the legal part is happening separately).

We’re. Getting. Married.

Marriage is a big deal, right? And for all its common-ness, it’s a provocative subject. As an institution, marriage had little to do with love until relatively recently. And it had little to do with two equals creating a partnership until even MORE recently (not-so-fun fact: most states didn’t consider marital rape a crime until the late 1970s).

The median age for getting married is going up, and the number of marriages most of us will have in our lifetime is going up.

Marriage is evolving, as things do.

Joe and I are both pretty pragmatic people. We know the marriage statistics, advantages and pitfalls. We know exactly what tax benefits our union will result in, and we’ve made some strategic choices. We elected for pre-marital counseling by way of the Prepare/Enrich assessment, which gave us data (Pie charts! Graphs! Percentages! Yay!) to analyze.

Our engagement has been filled with preparatory exercises designed to help us understand what we’re getting into, and why. And by all accounts, we’re doing everything right, if not romantically (nothing says romance like empirical data).

But I’m getting the sense that we aren’t preparing for marriage, exactly. What this actually feels like is preparation for continuous preparation. Or continuous change. Or maybe just continuously taking another person into consideration.

Because we’re both in our thirties, we have established independent-everythings—routines, schedules, habits, friends, etc. Every day, we make micro-decisions about how much our physical and emotional worlds should overlap, and where we can each bend and flex to accommodate. And sometimes we hit surprisingly hard edges. (I just think beds look better when they’re made!)

Ultimately, we’re both asking ourselves why we want to do this. For me, the answer is pretty simple. I love him, and I see how our personalities naturally support and balance each other. We accept each other. We challenge each other. We’re kind to each other. We have fun together and we respect each other’s independence. We both like learning. He makes really good quiche.

And when I think about my future, I want him to be there—even though I don’t know exactly who I will be or who he will be.

So in these days before we sign our papers and stand with our families and agree to keep picking each other, I’m feeling some mixture of totally chill and excited-bananas. The bed is messy. The quiche is in the oven. And despite our best preparations, neither of us has any idea what we’re getting into. Which is half the fun, right?

messybed.jpgThat bed.

Day 815: Like Taking Candy

So, I was clearing out some blog drafts and I came upon this one from August 28, which was about two months after I started dating Joe.

A few things have changed since then. I’m 32 now. I have bangs. Joe and I have met each other’s families and made each other meals and agreed that we want to share the same balcony from the same apartment. But for the most part, this draft still holds true.

I’m publishing it today as an ode to a balanced, imperfect relationship. One that I want to keep.

Warning: it’s a little gushy and it’s totally something I would have hated (secretly loved?) reading when I was single.

File this one under the category, “Things people say to you and you roll your eyes, but then later you realize they were right.”

At 31, I’ve had a good number of dating experiences. I’ve had a long-term, loving relationship that just didn’t work out, and a series of shorter-term relationships that have ranged from from fun to serious, to confusing to honestly-I-can’t-believe-you-thought-I’d-like-that-movie.

But the key marker in my adventures is that they’ve all been complicated in their own ways. However compelling, there’s been a problem to be solved.

My friends and family have been relentlessly supportive of whatever and whomever I chose, but often with the gentle sighing caveat, “You know, I really think it should be easier.”

It should be easier.

That’s a particularly easy statement to ignore, because it can be intellectually overridden with facts about why it’s hard now but will get easier later, or snorts that maybe not everyone gets to glide down easy street in the beginning of a relationship. It just sounded too simple, and I truthfully figured that “easiness” just wasn’t in my nature. I enjoy complicated tasks – things that need to be untangled and wrangled and sorted out.

But that was before I met Joe.

I’m telling you, there’s something to this easy thing. We like each other, we tell each other we like each other and we have easy conversations about complicated topics.

That’s not to say it’s perfect. His cheap, black socks leave little fuzzies all over my apartment, and I swear they look like dirty spiders and it drives me freaking crazy. And my work life often bleeds into my after-work life, and I know I have a hard time disengaging when I’m focused on a project.

But. It’s easy. We like each other. He’ll buy new socks and I’ll turn off email notifications. He’ll teach me how to love cycling and I’ll teach him how to think performance art is beautiful (some of it, at least).

I’m not writing this to say that something’s wrong if your relationship looks or sounds different. If it doesn’t seem easy, it’s still okay. You’re the only one who knows what’s right for you.

But from one logical justifier to another, it’s been SO worth trying for easy.

Also, we met on Tinder.

Zeus Jones Holiday Party

The only photo of us from my work holiday party.
Captured by Colleen at 2nd Truth Photography.

Day 523: Advice to the Tinderers

In an attempt to be a social butterfly (instead of one of those irritating moths that gets trapped flying around in the lampshade when the light’s been on too long), I recently re-downloaded Tinder.

For those of you in-the-know, Tinder has been around since 2012 as an alternate to other cold sweat and anxiety-inducing online dating platforms like OkCupid. It’s much simpler and less work to manage. It hooks into your Facebook profile and let’s you choose one main photo, five extra photos and add a short “about me” paragraph. In addition to the photos and paragraph, other users see your age, how many miles away you’re located, any Facebook friends you have in common, and any mutual interests you identified on Facebook (although, I haven’t bothered to add any new Facebook interests since approximately 2007—has anyone?).

Aside from one super creepy message from someone who is apparently known for sending creepy messages (Dude. You know who you are. Stop being a creep.), it’s been fun to see who’s around. It’s really, really, really (really) easy to tell which Tinderers are looking for—erm—”short-term experiences,” and which ones are actually interested in meeting interesting people. And the ability to cross reference potential matches with mutual Facebook friends is a huge benefit.

Since Tinder users have to make most of their initial assumptions about each other based on six photos and not much text, the photography becomes extremely important. And telling. In keeping with my habit of offering unsolicited online dating feedback, I have some advice for folks (specifically guys) about how to make the most of Tinder photos.

The Advice

1. You can only use six photos, so don’t use the same one twice. Or worse, three times. This app is super easy to figure out, so it’s not a good expression of your intelligence if you don’t get how to use it.

2. Understandably, most of your Facebook photos are probably of you out and about with your friends, because that’s when people take pictures. But you with a beer in each hand and a bro on each side in every photo suggests you don’t have many outside interests. Add one of you with your dog, or your favorite board game or your roller blades. (The ladies are pretty good at sussing out staged photos, so you might as well be honest about what you like to do.)

3. Pick at least one photo in which you’re identifiable as the subject. You’re virtually invisible when all of your photos are of groups of people. Which guy are you? Trying to figure it out is like a weird Where’s Waldo game, only everyone is Waldo and they all wear sports jerseys.

4. Keep the close-up mustache shots and fishing photos to a minimum. For more information, see Day 115: Advice for Dudes.

5. Be yourself, and represent yourself as such. Per the number 2 parenthetical, don’t bother trying to trick people into liking you. This applies to more than just your images. There are so many different types of people in the world, all looking for different types of relationships. Be honest about what you’re looking for—odds are, someone else out there is looking for the same thing.

Day 253: More Books, Less Dates

I started writing a post about being 30 and single (which is both awesome and exhausting, much like being in a relationship at any age), but I became distracted by The Rory Gilmore Reading Challenge (thanks to my college friends for posting it on Facebook within mere moments of its creation).

Anyone who watched any of the seven seasons of The Gilmore Girls knows that Rory Gilmore loved a good book. In scrolling through her character’s eclectic and sophisticated tastes, I had a sudden epiphany—

I need to read more books and go on less dates.

The Gilmore Girls

I’ve gone on more dates this year than I probably have in all of my previous years of life combined. Two thirds of them have been via online platforms—and I’ve met some really interesting, intelligent and totally not-scary people through the world wide web. I even recently downloaded Tinder, against my feelings of skeptical doom that it would be a creep-fest (it’s not).

The thing is—in my effort to go on more dates, the novelty of the first date has worn off. And the pressure of a second date is too high for me to consider. I’m in first-date burnout, second-date commitment-avoidance no-man’s land.

So, I’m turning to the books.

Of the 339 books Rory was seen reading, I think I’ve read 54 of them. But I listened to The Secret Life of Bees on tape, so I’m not sure if that counts. And if I remember correctly, I never finished As I Lay Dying because it was ridiculously depressing.

I’d like to say I’m going to jump right back into reading with something like The Portable Nietzsche, but I started Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns) a few months back and recently found it in my suitcase. I’m going to start by finishing that one.

If you’re interested, you should stop dating and/or watching Storage Wars and check out the reading list with me. There are some excellent books on there.

Happy reading!

Day 115: Advice for Dudes

Okay, guys. If you have an online dating profile, I have some advice for you.

Since I can only write this from my own perspective, not all of my advice may apply to you. But I’ll try to keep most of it universally applicable.

The Advice

Do ask someone to proofread your profile.

Do not mix up “you’re” and “your” or spell “intelligent” wrong.

Do include pictures of you smiling. Everybody likes a smile.

Do not include close up photos of your mustache. A surprisingly large number of you do this, and it’s actually really hard to tell you apart. Plus, I’m pretty sure mustaches were meant to be viewed in their entirety and not as individual hairs (ew).

Do let your personality come through on your profile, whether you’re goofy, serious, shy, etc.

Do not write generic phrases that could end up on every other person’s profile. Saying that you “work hard to play hard” doesn’t mean much without the context of the actual work or play. Also, what?

Do include pictures of you with your pets, kids, guitars, drums, siblings, rollerblades, friends, etc.

Do not include pictures of you with dead animals.

Do send messages to people you’re interested in meeting. Include a question or reference to their profile to let them know you aren’t spamming everyone on the Internet with, “Let’s talk. Meet me at Perkins.”

Do not berate the person you’re interested in meeting if they don’t write you back right away (or at all). Yelling/writing, “YOU’RE LOSS!” is not a successful way to get dates. (Also, see above.)

Do write about the things you like about yourself. Are you really good at making people feel comfortable (or uncomfortable)? Are you a rockin’ math tutor? Do you always win Jenga? Put it in your profile.

Do not refer to yourself as the most attractive, hilarious, well-groomed, smart, fit and humble person you know.

Do include your actual height.

Do not include someone else’s taller height. Your date will figure it out within the first half-second of meeting you.

Do include some information about the kind of person you’d like to meet. If it’s important that your partner enjoy running two-hour marathons with you, it’s worth a mention.

Do not paint yourself into a corner by being too specific about your ideal partner. You might be surprised to find out who clicks with you, and if you require too many traits, you’ll alienate some people you might really like.

In closing, do feel free to ignore any and all of this. (Except the mustache thing.)

Happy dating!