I’m gonna be honest, ya girl would not be where she is today without Tinder. In a world of left and right swiping, meeting men out in the wild has become pretty much impossible, as our generation has become inundated with a bunch of sissyboys who are so afraid of rejection that they need the go-ahead before they even express their interest. So I have fully indulged. For better or worse — for sex or attention — I’m fully in. This is where all my boyfriends come from, and I have no shame about that.
However, where in the days of yore I could rely on nothing but a smile and a bodycon to lure my lovers to their next several months of hell, now I need to use my personality as a factor to attracting guys, like an ugly girl would. Bummer.
In truth, my personality is a selling point. I’m smart and I’m funny, and you’d think that would be all you need — except you can’t just write “I’m smart and funny” in your Tinder bio. Instead, we must list a bunch of things that make up who we are and what we like, and frankly, my resume sucks. All the go-to “look how much you want to date me” facts are just…not…me.
I hate hiking.
I heard a rumor once that hiking is just walking in nature, but that doesn’t change the fact that I hate outside. I only like perfect weather. I bitch if it’s too hot or too cold. I hate dirt. And I don’t really ever want to put on “clothes you can move around in” on a date. If you want us to move around, you will take my clothes off, like a fucking gentleman.
I hate fitness.
I just learned about working out two months ago, and frankly, I’m pretty sure I’m still cheating the system. I take some pretty basic dance and yoga classes, and for the most part I do the modified versions of anything that’s too hard. I only go a couple of times a week, and before this, I was completely sedentary for the better part of six months. And my body reflects it.
I am absolutely looking for something specific.
When a guy asks what you’re looking for, you’re supposed to respond as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to you to analyze your love life and where you want it to go. You tell him you’re up for something casual or something more, whatever happens happens. And I too, am looking for nothing specific, unless “a man who will start out with a little bit of a chase, and then slowly but surely talk to me more and more until it’s daily — eventually meet my friends, win them over, and realize he’s gradually falling for me until he asks me to be his girlfriend and then his wife” is specific, that is.
I think sports are useless.
I have never watched a full game of anything in my entire life. In fact, I recently went to a hockey game and I was too distracted by the stimuli of the billboards and concession people selling hot dogs to notice the game. When football is on TV, it might as well be static to me: sure, I hear sounds and see things moving, but it’s quite literally meaningless to me. I can’t even quite wrap my mind around why someone would like them.
I hate dogs.
Yes, sir, even your dog. They are big, and smelly, and scary, and I just want no part of them. I’m chill to coexist with dogs, so long as they don’t jump on me, or lick me, or bark, or shed, but the second you try to get me to pet it, it’s probably going to be a problem.
I’m not really into blow jobs.
Not that this would go in my Tinder bio if I was, but, uhh, I literally never do it, and my boyfriends have to deal.
I don’t drink beer
Oh, you thought you were going to take me on a fun, casual first date to a brewery or a crafthouse? Well, I’ll be ordering the chardonnay when we get there, so I’ll look like a high-maintenance brat, and you’ll feel like an asshole for taking me somewhere I can’t enjoy. A win-win, really.
I wear all the makeup
You know how you like a kind of natural look? Well FUCK THAT! I put so much makeup on my face that I borderline look like a different person by the end of it. You will go to bed with a soft 7 and wake up with a martian. It takes me, quite literally, two hours to get ready, and I will always, always, always be late because of it. I spend too much money on luxury products, and I will talk to you about them as if you care.
Pop culture is my religion.
More specifically, the Kardashians, America’s favorite family, and certainly yours, kind sir. I live and breathe by the ongoings of socialites and models. I don’t know what fuels my obsession. I just know these are beautiful people, with beautiful hair, and beautiful makeup, and beautiful clothing, and I love every part of it. Plus, their family dynamic just hits me in the feelers, ya know?
I’m a social media queen.
I basically only go to events to get an Instagram picture, and I expect, that once I’m in a relationship, a man will take as many pictures of me and with me as I need so I get my perfect photo. But it doesn’t stop there! I won’t let you eat your food until I get the perfect snap of it, and we will take selfie upon selfie until I’m satisfied that ~the people~ will think I’m pretty (through a filter), while having no qualms about posting a photo where you look terrible. And as for privacy? Forget it! I will literally live tweet our entire relationship, including screenshots of our texts if I think they’re good for #content. A dream!
I’m always late
My good friends have begun lying to me about what time to arrive places, because I have never been on time for something in my entire life. I follow the age-old philosophy:
“It’s 9:18, which is basically 9:15, which is basically 9, so I’m on time.”
Of course, the event started at 8, but who’s counting.
I write for TotalSororityMove.com
My whole past, present, and future is out there for the reading, which is fun for YOU when you want to read intimate details about not only you, but my past lovahs. But furthermore, when you explain my job to your mom or coworkers, she will think I’m both immature and possibly a little bit trashy.
But if you can get passed all of my likes and dislikes, you’ll learn I’m a really cool person, with interesting takes on a wide variety of conversational topics. I’m kind and caring, I give great advice, and I’m a real hoot in a crowd. I’m just really, really bad on paper..
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