I was at a dating low point last Saturday night. It was a dark, dark place in my less than fulfilling  online dating saga.

First, my ex-boyfriend walked right past my car downtown while I was en route to meet a guy from Match.com. (THE ex-boyfriend. You know, the one ex boyfriend that pops up in your head whenever you hear a sappy Phil Collins break-up song. Thankfully, I don’t think he noticed me. I wish I didn’t notice him.

Reeling from my ex-boyfriend sighting, I set out to meet my Saturday night date. The moment I laid eyes on him, I wanted to run like hell out of the bar. Why I didn’t make a break for it, I’ll never know. The guy clearly had a knack for snapping deceptive photos. And he talked funny.

Not only did he look NOTHING like his photos, he was just so weird. He wouldn’t stop talking about the fact that he was ADHD. By being blessed with the inability to focus, this guy acted like he won the “I’m so awesome” jackpot. His pants didn’t fit. They were much too short – like horrifyingly too short.

He wasn’t even a hipster….

You can blame the fact that you locked your keys in the car for the second time this week on ADHD. You can’t use it to justify that you are a socially awkward mess. Sorry buddy, it’s not ADHD, you are just really, really strange. Accept it.

Then he rambled on and on about weird history shit – I zoned out for the bulk of it, but he kept talking about some dude named Constantine and Christianity wars. (What the fuck??????) For a man who supposedly can’t focus, he could sure focus on some Christianity wars.

Oh, and apparently there was this former girlfriend who lied about him being the father of his child for a full year. Bitter? You better believe it. I heard about it for another 20 minutes or so before calling it a night.

After two glasses of wine and some water, I retreated back to my car and headed home. (Mind you, two glasses of wine is the equivalent of drinking two glasses of water for my alcohol-loving self).

Note: I’m not proud of the following passage you’re about to read. An ex-boyfriend sighting and subsequent nightmare date is a recipe for an epic “Why Me?” meltdown. Sometimes you just need one. 

So, I’m making my way home down I-90 after this hell date and “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty comes on my iPod. You heard me right – “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. The tune must have hit a chord (no pun intended.. ha) and I start sobbing. I’m talking heaving, awful, choking sobs. Endless sobbing. Once “Baker Street” finished, “I Can’t Tell You Why” by the Eagles started playing which only made it worse.  (My reaction to these songs further stresses the gravity of my sad, sad dating life). By the time I arrived home, my face was bright pink and caked in a mixture of black mascara and snot. I wasn’t even drunk. I was still crying and I wasn’t entirely sure why. Other than the fact that I was angry at my shitty dating luck.

Bawling my eyes out to “Baker Street” after a bad Saturday night date AND ex boyfriend encounter was not a high point (salt meet wound). Don’t judge – we all have our “Why Me?”  moments. Right? I do wish my bad dating meltdown occurred during a “cooler” song.  Where is Bon Iver when you need him?

Flash forward to my recent Saturday night date

I’m on a second date with a man I met two nights before.  Ever meet someone that you totally feel like you can be 100% yourself with right off the bat? Yeah, it was like that. I can totally say whatever and not feel like I’m freaking him out. Plus, he’s adorable, smart and ridiculously witty. I like this one. And I’m not forcing myself to like this one because he’s good on paper or convenient. I just do.

I know better than to jump the gun and get my hopes up. Still, I didn’t  drive home crying to “Magnet and Steel” by Walter Egan or anything….. so I think I’m on the right path.

My recent date may have looked like Patrick Dempsey, but Mr. McDreamy he was not.

Return to Dating 101 – if a man repeatedly claims to to be a “hopeless romantic,” he’s not. McNotDreamy never missed an opportunity to inform me about his romantic tendencies.  According to him, he’s an “old-fashioned romantic” type of guy.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s thoroughly expressed on his online dating profile. (Ladies – if you see this in a profile. Never get your hopes up.)

I can repeatedly tell you that I’m Kim Kardashian. It doesn’t make it true.

Despite a lack of wine and roses, McNotDreamy had a riveting story that he liked to recount (over and over again)…. Once upon a time he knew a guy who recently encountered a bout of good dating luck on Match.com.

On top of excessively communicating his supposed romantic tendencies, NotMcDreamy really enjoyed repeating a story about his friend who recently found the woman of his dreams on Match.com. So much, that his buddy’s tale of online dating love came up in nearly every conversation. Whether it was via text, phone call or during dinner, he never failed to mention the fact that his friend fell in love with a girl from Match.com. Sometimes an “I can only hope to be so lucky” was added for good measure. The more he told the story, the more I got the feeling something was off.

Take the online dating success story and combine it with the absence of romantic tendencies. Toss in his claim to be a huge dog lover with his refusal to pet or even acknowledge my dog… and it equals bull shit. Creative, yet ineffective bull shit.

I firmly believe he deserves a few points for originality. This is the first man who tried to crank up the charm with a non-stop reiteration of a friend’s online dating love story.

On the fourth (and final) date, McNotDreamy sat beside me on the couch and proceeded to text other women. He deliberately tilted the phone so I couldn’t see the screen when he’d receive the messages. Because that wasn’t obvious or anything… (And I could still see!)

Of course, the multiple females blowing up his phone didn’t stop him from trying to hump me.

I, on the other hand, did.

Related articles

• Stop “Living In The Moment” On Your Online Dating Profile (thegloss.com)
• 10 things you should consider before and during your encounter with a blind/semi-blind date (katlohdown.wordpress.com)

Not funny. At all. Period.

Being single in your twenties was fun. Then, one day you wake up and realize everyone got hitched. The drunk party photos that once clogged your Facebook feed have been replaced by copious amounts of ultrasound pics and shares of “parenting humor” images.

You feel out of the loop. And you probably are. But that’s okay. Being single after 30  doesn’t mean you’re a social degenerate. I mean, have you seen some of the people who get married?! Some are certifiably crazy. Others are downright repulsive. But… they got lucky. And.. you haven’t been lucky yet. On that note, here’s a few reasons I found to quit bemoaning your single status (and mine too).

15 Reasons to Not Hate Being Single After Thirty

1. Can go out with my guy friends whenever. Plus, I can vacation with my guy friends. No questions asked.
2. Lounging on the sofa in my stained & tattered sweatpants, no bra and my hair in one giant knot – for as long as I choose.
3. Not required to shave every day. And never having to shave another’s back hair.
4. My friends are more fun. Plus, I don’t feel obligated to invite my guy along and try to fill him in on the inside jokes we’ve had for over 10 years.
5. I don’t have to attempt to hide the existence of this dating blog.
6. No boyfriend begging for a blow job when I’m on the heaviest day of my period.
7. I like hanging out with myself.
8. Not being woken up each time my guy gets out of bed to take a piss, drink water, etc. No worrying whether or not I was snoring. No snoring keeping me up.
9. Dating is providing plethora of writing material. More than I could have ever fathomed.
10. I’m not forced to listen to anyone else’s shitty music choices. (Seriously, how can the Goo Goo Dolls be your favorite band?)
11. Not sharing the couch. And not having to watch sports updates while sharing the couch.
12. No arguing over the thermostat setting.
13. No one tying up the bathroom taking a 30 minute shit when I need to do my hair, brush my teeth, etc.
14. Opportunity. Being single leaves you open to ANYTHING. You have the freedom to do whatever without the tether of another. Whether its traveling abroad, moving to LA to pursue a writing career or taking up sky-diving – you can do it. Besides, you never know when you’ll meet ‘the one.’ Better to be single when that happens than trapped in a sub-par relationship.
15. You’ve experienced a ton – so when the time comes to settle down you’ll be ready. Especially if you’ve dabbled in online dating – then you’ll REALLY be ready.

Sure, I’d love to stumble upon a great guy, fall in love & share a life together. I can’t force it. I can only hope I’m fortunate enough to meet someone and live out the whole “happily ever after” ending. Until then – life as a thirty-something single isn’t too horrible. Besides, the grass is always greener on the other side.. until you get there.

Related articles

• Horse_ebooks OkCupid Tumblr Reminds Me Why I’m Single (thirtysomethingsingle.com)

I thought he was joking and was simply asking it to see if I was gullible or crazy (Anne Heche style). My answer, “I have trouble believing in anything that I haven’t seen, but considering that the universe is rather big… I guess no one can say for sure. Why? Do you?”

“Yes. I’ve seen them.” The conversation turned unnecessarily serious.

“What? Like you were abducted and anal probed?”

“No. But I’ve seen aliens twice.”

He proceeded to tell a story about spotting an extra-terrestrial being in a parked car. Apparently, Mr. Alien was chilling in the backseat, staring at him and wiggling one of his long, extra-terrestrial fingers in a come-hither motion. The other tale involved UFO’s hovering over his home.

What the fuck Match.com?

Are you fucking kidding me?

The worst part – this guy stopped returning my calls. (Third date rule strikes again?)

Once upon a time, my old college roommate dated this guy who creeped everyone out. Turns out he was a paranoid schizophrenic. On top of believing that government agents broke into his apartment and injected him with the HIV virus and that his Buddha statue came to life after midnight….. he also reported to have close encounters with aliens. He was eventually forced into a mental hospital. He probably still resides there today.

third date expected?

(Yes. Fairly often. Seems to be the norm.)

If you use an online dating site, odds are that both you and your significant other from the site are dating multiple people. I’m certain the men I’m seeing are dating other women. It’s never been explicitly stated, but it would be naive to think otherwise. This is the reality of online dating.

This makes for lots of third dates. And tons of potential hook-ups.

It’s the third date….

I’ve never felt pressured to concede to the third date rule. Admittedly, I’ve had my share of alcohol-infused evenings that ended in bed (sooner than we should have), but sex on the third date never felt obligatory in my book. Some men have thought otherwise.

Sex doesn’t require a timeline. When things are right – they are right. The thing is, I no longer feel right sleeping with a man who is simultaneously dating other women (and possibly having sex with them).

Have I done it? Of course. More than I should. Sometimes I couldn’t help it (damn rum and rebound sex). Other times I’d try to convince myself that maybe he’s only sleeping with me (this was true at times). Or, I’d momentarily let my brain believe that our relationship could progress and become exclusive (even though I knew otherwise).

So, we sleep together and I pretend to ignore the texts from other women that he is trying to keep under wraps while at dinner. I don’t dare ask what’s happening on his “busy nights,” because I don’t want the real answer. And… we continue to sleep together. Some nights, he’ll send a “good night” text. Other nights he doesn’t return mine, probably because he isn’t alone. And… we continue to sleep together. Eventually we break up.

I’m over it.

I want a relationship (I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise, but it’s not happening). Casual sex isn’t fun anymore. Wanting to sleep with a man who is exclusively sleeping with me? This is NOT too much to ask. I’m not requesting his hand in marriage. I just want him to keep his penis out of other women’s vaginas if its currently being inserted into mine.

Match.com and other sites have transformed dating into an all-you-can hook-up buffet. Since buffets are a chock full of mold, bacteria and foul diseases, I prefer  that my future partner and I play it safe and stick to one item from the menu at a time.

On that note, I’ve decided that it’s time to buck this sex on the third date trend all together.

Summer’s New Sex & Dating Rules

1. No sex on or before the third date
2. No sex if I know the man is dating (or sleeping with) other women
3. No sex if I think the man is dating (or sleeping with) other women
4. If I don’t see a future with the man and he is seriously attractive, rules 1-3 need not apply (if it’s good for the goose…). Hey, I deserve an “out” if faced with an extended dry spell.

Simply stated – If you’re sleeping with me, I’d better be the only one you’re sleeping with. I don’t expect a man to profess his undying love for me. I don’t even need a “girlfriend” title, but I do require that he refrain from inserting his tongue or penis into a different vagina on nights spent apart.

On a side note, I’m preparing to be dumped A LOT over my new dating rules. More than usual. Considering the “lovely” men I’ve encountered lately, there’s a good chance that my new sex and dating rules will render me not fourth-dateable. And that’s okay.

Let’s see how this goes.

Related articles

• Dating Rules! Don’t Act Like a Girlfriend Until You Have The Title! (everythinggirlslove.com)
• The Stir: 10 Dating Rules That Have Changed Since You Were Last Single (huffingtonpost.com)

Enter OKC_ebooks. A funny and pathetic look at revolting men on OkCupid. Seriously, this site is great.

A guy named Sam Kriss created a fake female OkCupid profile using a photo of an attractive girl. Like any female with two legs and two arms, the dating profile is bombarded with bizarre and perverse messages. But, this “girl” only responds to messages with quotes from the spam Twitter account @horse_ebooks. (The spammy account was made to tout shitty e-books, but avoids Twitter’s spam detection by sending out peculiar tweets that make absolutely no sense. And they are hilarious).

The @horse_ebooks quotes don’t deter the male daters. Psychotic-sounding or not, to these guys a bat-shit crazy vagina is still a vagina.

Although they aren’t talking to a real girl, do these men really think their tactics work? Are they total morons?

Related articles

• How To Seduce Someone On OkCupid With Horse_eBooks Quotes (buzzfeed.com)
• Horse_Ebooks Tweets Are the Best Way to Deal With OkCupid Creeps (gizmodo.com)

Netflix subscribers face a harsh challenge of combing through a paltry list of “B” movies, old TV shows (most were cancelled for a reason) and bizarre documentaries to find something that won’t make them a) fall asleep, b) cringe or c) masturbate to porn for the third time that day.

“I really miss watching Family Ties” says no one ever.

Subscribing to Netflix is like joining an online dating site. Upon signing up for eHarmony, Match.com or OkCupid, your head is spinning with the promise of unlimited possibilities. Once you’ve paid and start browsing, reality sets in. You longed for classics like “Forest Gump,” “Shawshank Redeption,” or “Casablanca,” but instead you got “Extreme Couponing Season 1,” “Bridezillas,” “Home Alone 3,” “Nacho Libre,” “Family Ties,” and fifty documentaries about organic food.

Since Netflix subscribers fill their instant queues with the best of the worst – the results can be hilarious …and telling.

I often forget the extreme awfulness that is my Netflix Instant Queue. That is, until there’s a guy at my place and I suggest we find a movie on Netflix. I flip on Netflix Instant and immediately realize the damage I’ve done. The expression on my date’s face is usually a mix of disgust, worry and trying to abstain from laughing at me.

Here’s a brief list of what lurks in my Netflix queue. What does it say about me? Feel free to draw your own conclusions. But if yours is anything like mine, it’s better to keep it under wraps.

My Netflix Queue of Shame

Arrested Development
Breaking Bad
The Walking Dead
Dawson’s Creek
American Horror Story
Twin Peaks
Melrose Place

Strange Sex
After Porn Ends
Science of Sex Appeal
The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia
I Think We’re Alone Now
Winnebago Man
Commune
Confessions of a Superhero
I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK

Lord, Save Us From Your Followers
Dirty Money: The Business of High End Prostitution
Price of Pleasure
A Complete History of My Sexual Failures
Solitary Confinement
Grizzly Man
Gasland
Infested
Hippie Masala
Science of Dogs

Harold and Maude
Midnight Cowboy
Drugstore Cowboy
Blue Valentine
The Human Centipede 1 & 2

Planes Trains & Automobiles
Pumpkin
Momento
Rosemary’s Baby
Adaption
Young Adult
Bruno
The Hours

I’ve been so distracted that Valentine’s Day could’ve passed and I’d have been none the wiser. Readers of my dating blog would’ve missed out on an obligatory angst-ridden “I Hate Valentine’s Day” post had it not been for a certain guy in my life. He’s pretty… swell.

My ignorance was bliss. Until Monday night.

Even though I said no more dating lawyers, I continue to do so. They find me. I continue to give them chances. It never works out. Mostly because they fail to maintain a decent façade and I realize they’re a total asshole after a few dates. (Definition of insanity, I get it.)

I was set to embark on date #5 with this lawyer. I’ve been hesitant about him because his actions (out late every single night, has multiple ‘guys nights’ every week….) don’t say “I want to settle down.” He’s divorced, so it seems like he’s determined to make up for lost time. However, I genuinely enjoyed his company and our personalities mesh, so I wanted to be certain before I regrettably cast him out of the rotation (also known as – move on because in a week or two he’ll be onto the next big thing)

Last weekend we made plans for this Thursday (HE picked the day). Neither of us aware that it was Valentine’s Day.

Monday night I receive a text from him around 1am (I’m a slight insomniac). The text read “Good night.” I was up watching Walking Dead on Netflix so I politely answered, “Good night to you too.” I thought he was just making a nice gesture. The rest goes as followed:

Lawyer: We are going out on vday….

Me: That’s funny. I totally didn’t realize it was Valentines Day.
(100 percent true – I actually wanted to spend Valentines Day with my best friend because that would’ve been fun and not subject to unnecessary awkwardness)

Lawyer:  Ok. So here’s how I see it. Neither of us knew. So let’s not infer anything. But let’s also not infer that either of us are being dicks.

Me:  Why would either of us be a dick?

Lawyer: I don’t know….

Lawyer:  Damn. I hate dating.

Me:  Considering Valentines Day wasn’t even on my radar, I don’t believe either of us inferred anything.

Lawyer:  Good. I’ll still plan a nice night.

Gee, thanks. Is it wrong to feel insulted? I did.

I wouldn’t have inferred anything because we’re still getting to know each other. The notion that he felt compelled to send that text and couldn’t just leave well enough alone lets me infer a few things…

And he’s the one who hates dating? But it gets better.

I was debating whether or not to cancel, but he made the decision for me on Wednesday (the day before Valentines Day).  He claimed he’s bogged down with work and we need to reschedule.I promise you, he’s not ‘working late.’

Hey asshole – you just left me hanging on Valentine’s Day. Well, now I definitely ‘infer’ something – you’re an ass.

In other news, according to Jezebel.com my vagina is worth $257 on Valentine’s Day. The price is based on the level of commitment and a single vagina is worth the most. If you’re a single woman on Valentine’s Day, your date should fork over $257 to get laid. Committed vaginas must settle for $180. I’m not making this shit up. I guess that means as far as Valentine’s Day is concerned, my vagina is worthless.

Seriously guys – don’t be cheap. Before you ask a woman on a date, loosen that death grip on your wallet and PLEASE, PLEASE don’t brag about your frugal lifestyle. Believe me, we are not impressed.

So… I went on a date with this Match.com guy, let’s just call him El Cheapo (it’s more fitting than anything else). Allow me to preface this story by telling you that El Cheapo is a medical device sales rep who makes close to six-figures. Cheap has nothing to do with income level and everything to do with a fatal personality flaw. Cheap = undateable.

El Cheapo called the night before and suggested we meet at the Greenhouse Tavern. For any non-Clevelanders reading this, the Greenhouse Tavern is one of the top restaurants in Cleveland. You can’t NOT eat at Greenhouse Tavern. Well, unless you’re El Cheapo. I don’t think he was planning on dinner.

If he just wanted to meet for a drink, he could’ve suggested more bar and less restaurant. Selecting one of the best restaurants in Cleveland and expecting me to sit there and watch everyone else chow down is cruel and unusual punishment. I wasn’t having it, so I took the reins and insisted we get a table because I was hungry.

He tried to change his tune, “Wow. I’m kind of relieved that you’re hungry. I just planned to sit at the bar. But we can eat.”

Damn right we’re eating. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wasn’t cheap. Maybe the cheap vibe he was exuding was totally my head. It wasn’t.

On top of suggesting that I get the cheapest entrée on the menu (burger), El Cheapo spent a hefty chunk of time discussing his finances and his rapidly growing bank account. And let me tell you, he’s very proud of his bloated savings account. He told me that more than once.

Does this turn you on?

“I’m the most frugal guy I know,” he boasted. “Every month I set a budget for how much I can spend on entertainment. If I go over my budget, I have to lay low the next month.” He continued to brag about his fiscally conservative ways and how he managed to teach his sisters to cut corners and they now save an additional $500 per month.

Oh, he also told a riveting story involving a bad date at a wine festival. I’m not sure what else happened on his ‘bad date story,’ but I do know that the tickets cost $50 each. He mentioned that like ten times.

When I first laid eyes on El Cheapo, I wondered why he was single. The man is extremely tall, attractive, and intelligent with a good job. But wow, he’s a miserly fellow! Financial responsibility is good, but when penny-pinching dominates a first date conversation – there’s a huge problem.

El Cheapo doesn’t have his own place at 35. He lives with his cousin in a 2 bedroom apartment (not even a house) because it “saves so much money.”

Surprisingly El Cheapo willingly paid for dinner. (Note: I purposely didn’t select an expensive entrée and ordered only one drink, so it wasn’t an expensive tab. I didn’t want it to be. I was turned off and just wanted to leave.)

Our date occurred on a 20-degree night with wicked wind gusts. The sidewalks were covered by a lovely sheet of ice and where does he park? Over by West 6th somewhere because he didn’t want to pay higher rates due to the Cavs game. I paid $10 bucks to park a block away – which is nothing. How much money could he have possibly saved?? A broken leg due to falling on ice during his long trek back could cost him much more.

Guys, you need not be rich. Just don’t be so prudent with your cash that it’s impractical. Thriftiness does not get our juices flowing. El Cheapo was incredibly attractive, yet I’ve never been so turned off.

He asked me on a second date, but I must decline. I don’t care to hear anymore about his adventures in frugality. (Seriously, what guy brags about his cheapness on a first date?)

So far, one guy hasn’t weeded himself out. He was the first man I went out with upon my fateful return to Match.com. He isn’t my typical type – a tad nerdy, much quieter than my usual boisterous jerky breed and he’s also way smarter than I am. Believe me, I’m not dumb by any means, his intelligence level happens to be much higher.

He won me over on the third date. How? He gave me the olives out of his martini.

Sounds silly, right? I’m excited over a couple of olives. Did I mention they were stuffed with bleu cheese? Really, is there anything better than a salty, juicy olive packed with sharp bleu cheese? There isn’t.

I fucking love olives. Adore them to the point where I’ll sit in front of my television with a jar of olives and a fork and go to town. Certain times of the month I’m overcome with an insatiable craving for salt. Olives satisfy this. The other week Giant Eagle had jars of olives on sale for $1 each. I won’t mention how many jars were purchased, but let’s just say I’m set on olives for quite some time.

Orgasmic.

Back to the doctor and his keen ability to woo me with olives. During dinner, he ordered a dirty martini and immediately asks if I’d like his olives. Of course I took one, but insisted that he eat the other. He admitted to enjoying olives, but noted that he ordered the dirty because he knows my bizarre fondness for olives, so he wanted to give them to me. I couldn’t argue. I’ve since learned he’s an olive lover as well – which makes the gesture even sweeter.

The next afternoon, I was scrounging around the fridge for olives (a normal routine). As I popped the jar and stuck a fork in one, I remembered his olive offering from previous night. Made me smile all over again. Willingly handing over your blue cheese stuffed olives is a mighty sacrifice. I guess that means he’s worth keeping around?