an open letter to the men of tinder

For last couple weeks I’ve been grappling with a pretty crucial life decision – should I join Tinder?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Tinder (Hi, Mom!) it’s a dating app linked your Facebook profile. The people at Tinder are pretty smart and angled their app to feel more like a game than a dating site. Based on a user set location and age range, Tinder pulls up photos of guys, as well as a brief personal summary. Basically, it gives you the simplicity of going off of “just looks” without having to read though a lengthy profile. You simply check “Yes, I’m interested” or “Hells to the NO”… and on to next dude! If you and a guy both say you’re interested in each other… a messaging window opens up that mimics iPhone texting and you’re free to chat, minus the hassle of giving your phone number to a rando.

So last night I bit the bullet and signed up! It’s been a fun 18 hours and at the very least it certainly helps boost one’s confidence.

However, I do have a bone to pick with these guys and their poorly chosen photos. Don’t you realize that you’re given 5 photos to post and thus must strategically choose photos which best display what you look like while conveying some sense of your personality or personal interests?? HELLO!?

When all 5 of your pictures show you in a pair of sunglasses I’m going to assume your hideous – everyone looks good in sunglasses. When every photo shows a group of guys and I can’t pick you apart from your bros, I’m going to assume you’re the Turtle (Earlier season. Turtle got cute in the last season of “Entourage”) of the group. The same goes with photos where you’re making a goofy face IN. EVERY. SINGLE. PICTURE. or staring out at some wide open space. You’re not that insightful. If you were you would have realized this before I had the chance to blog about it. And don’t get me started on the bathroom mirror, camera phone selfie – it’s insulting!!

Phew… that feels good to get off my chest. Hopefully thing Tinder things leads to some matches and entertaining posts!

And finally, posting a photo in which you’re standing next to a girl in a wedding dress… I mean really? REEEEEALLY!?!?


without a doubt

Being a transplant in the city of SF naturally one of my first courses of action was to find some freaking girlfriends! I’m in my first Active year of the Jr. League and just attended my first committee meeting which kicked off with everyone’s favorite activity – the icebreaker. Ughhh… I’d rather demonstrate a physical talent, than answer a question about what American Girl doll I had growing up (Samantha). Whatever. This time we had to share our favorite past vacation, as well as one upcoming trip we were most looking forward to.

Maybe because most of my recent trips have been traveling back east to visit family and friends, or because the last true vacation I took was with my ex-boyfriend’s family… I was coming with up nada for this question.

So I thought hard. What was the last fun adventure vacation I took? A trip to London with one of my best friends during the summer break of college, of course! Two 21 year olds staying with a flat of A&F employees (another story for another post) let loose on an European city… what wouldn’t be memorable about that? And what about a trip I am most looking forward to? Why a reunion with my BFFs for Homecoming weekend. Naturally.

As we continued around the room it was hard not to notice that pretty much everyone listed a honeymoon or anniversary trip as a past/future trip. And honestly, I don’t blame them. I sure as hell hope my honeymoon (with Henry Cavill) is the best freaking trip ever, but it was difficult not to compare my super single state to their state of matrimony.

Recently I’ve felt content and accepting of my life where it is now. But I’m approaching my 27 and a half birthday next week, and I couldn’t help but feel that something was a bit off.  As I continue to roll on down the track closer to 30 it feels a bit weird not be 100% established in a city, in an apartment, in a relationship, in a career, in a hair color… until I came across the below list.

Presenting “The (Unofficial) Top 10 Things Women in Their Thirties Regret Having Done in Their Twenties”

  1. Marrying the wrong chap
  2. Starting their careers too late
  3. Losing their lissome figures (damn you Cheese Plus!)
  4. Having kids too soon
  5. Not marrying the right chap when he asked (accepting applications)
  6. Living the lives their parents wanted
  7. Running no risks
  8. Pursuing no purpose
  9. Never quite believing in themselves (who me?)
  10. Sticking with a series of chumps, dickweeds, and half-wits, all of whom ended up borrowing money

So while I continue down this path of figuring out myself out, at least I can take comfort in that I’m still writing my story, still meeting and dating new people, trying new things, pursuing crazy opportunities, I can 100% sure when time comes to establish myself as a Mrs. I’ll be 100% sure it’s the right decision at the 100% right stage of my life.

I’m off to LA for a girl’s weekend and my outlook couldn’t be sunny.

sorry i keep saying the f word

Oh the blind date… at one moment so full of hopes and dreams, the next crashing, burning, I need to go feed my cat, destruction. Since moving to the city I’ve been initiated into this realm of dating awkwardness. Mostly by well intentioned friends with my best interests at heart, and recently a few completely misguided, “Hey, you’re both single, but I have no idea if you have any thing in common beyond living in the continental northwest” attempts. I’m always open to the idea, because “You never know, Jackie!” but hours before the date I’m either on the brink of tears or canceling. However, an interesting thing happen last week when one of my best friend’s set me up with a man from my Midwestern roots – I didn’t care!

Not that I was a rude date, I just didn’t care if I looked pretty, had the perfect outfit or said the right thing. I was myself. Now don’t get me wrong, I’d still done my fair share of Facebook stalking, “what if…?” wondering, but I also knew that this guy was only temporarily living in San Francisco and would return home a few months later. While there still was a possibility he could be my Mr. Right, I went into the date actually hoping to get a friendship out it, without the pressure of finding my next boyfriend. And you know what? The unthinkable happened – I had a good time on a blind date!

I’ve noticed a lot of my friends, me especially, put a crazy amount of pressure on ourselves to have it all “figured out” by our late 20’s. I sometimes feel until I have all of my laundry done, my resume updated, an apartment out of an West Elm catalogue and a Henry Caville look-a-like boyfriend (FYI friends who want to set me up on future blind dates) – I just don’t have my shit together. It’s absurd.

The biggest lesson I’ve been learning these past few months is to be a little kinder to myself. I’m pretty great, well most of the time, excluding Monday mornings and post late night pizza bingeing. Why shouldn’t a guy want to take me, the real me out on a date? No one is going to make me happy, until I can make myself feel good about where and who I am right now. We’re all on different trajectories, towards different milestones and stages of life. If we can learn to be a little more patient and accepting of ourselves, as we are with others, maybe just maybe we can all go on at least one mildly, pleasant blind