Tinder Tale I

tinderTinder Tales I

At this point, I know very few people who haven’t tried tinder. They’ve either tried it just for laughs, or to actually meet people. I know a very small portion who have actually pursued relationships with tinder matches, and I’m happy to say they’re all doing really well.

I won’t lie, I felt a little weird trying it. I knew it was basically a hook-up app, and I had no idea if that was what I was even looking for. I just knew I wanted to meet new people and have fun. It was the summer before I was turning 25, and I decided it was time for me to have a scandalous summer. I’m too big of a control freak to ever commit to anything scandalous, so it was time for me to let go a little, and try something new. However, as a writer and scientist, I obsessively journal any and every new life venture so I can (much) later look at my experience (semi) objectively. Lucky for all of you beautiful creatures, you get to relive my experience with me.

So, here’s my first Tinder Tale:

“When Joan&Jane Were Sailors”

Before I start the story, I should add that Joan is my roommate’s nickname/drunk alterego. No one pronounces her name correctly and  we decided on Joan, because it sounds sort of “badass office lady”. Also, Joan and I work together in addition to our being roommates. For most, it would be too much time with one person, but we’re basically two different sides of the same coin; we make a great team at work and outside of work… it works for us, and has for years.

So, one night after a really shitty day at work, we decided to get the pool floaties out and drink a bottle of rum in our pool. After getting a little sauced, we decided to go out for some cocktails -because we ran out of rum.

I met up with the Dodger that I slept with once (who I met through tinder, but that’s a story for another day), and Joan met up with a previous Tinder Tackle turned long-term friend who had flown in for the night.

I got annoyed with the Dodger, because he was nothing short of one of the flakiest guys I had ever hung out with and was being wishy washy about where he wanted to go (as far as which bar) -total shocker..an athlete with a short attention-span. So, I decided to pretend to ignore him. Drunk or sober, I’m not great at ignoring or even pretending to ignore people. So, my attempt at pretending was, I’m sure, laughable at best. I just rolled my eyes at him and didn’t follow him to his stupid VIP section. I think all I said was “Nah. I might go home. See yah.”, and then I took my pouty attitude to the other side of the bar. Joan, her friend, and I decided to stay at this same bar because after my attempt at passive aggressiveness, I was stuck in this rapid cycle of “take a shot, dance for 10 minutes, take a lap to make sure he’s having a miserable time (I’m a little batty…drunk or sober *I embrace it), and repeat! We did that for about an hour, and my friends were ready to strangle me.

Eventually, Joan and her friend got bored of the workout my crazy was giving them, and we decided to head to a few other bars. I eventually got them to go back to the original bar, claiming that the music was better. Joan’s friend got refused at the door because they thought he was too drunk…. I have no idea why I didn’t set off any alarms, but I still got in so I didn’t care -I didn’t see Joan after that until we left for work the next morning.

So, I’m at the first bar and I went straight to my dodger(because I obviously knew his exact location) and told him to take me home because my sandal broke and I was tired. He complied, and gave me a piggy back ride to our uber, while holding my sandal because I was too busy being devastated over my broken shoe to hold it myself. On our way home to his flat, I flirted with the cutest Dominican uber driver… in front of my dodger (who just laughed the whole time, while still holding my shoe). When we got back to his place, at 5’2” tall (1.5 meters), I attempted to give this 6’2” (1.9 meters) solid muscly athlete a piggy back ride into the house. We fall at least three times, but I got him through that threshold!! After that, I had decided that I’m basically the hulk.

What happened between the attempts to carry him into the house and my having to pee shortly after is still a little blurry, and was probably full of “I could probably arm wrestle you and win!”(I’m embarrassing, guys). But regardless of what ridiculous shit happened between those two moments, I had to pee. I eventually got to his bathroom  and this was one of those bathrooms that conjoins two bedrooms. So, I was wearing a romper (with no-bra), and I was paranoid that taking my romper off to pee would intuitively lure someone into walking into the bathroom to see me…basically naked, just to pee. Well, I ended up locking both doors.

I somehow managed to keep the door to the baseball player’s bedroom locked even after having opened it to exit the bathroom…Leaving both doors to this bathroom locked, preventing anyone from being able to use the rest room for the entirety of the evening. So, at 4:30 am there was my sexy (mostly) naked athlete taking the bathroom door off it’s hinges. While doing this, he was mumbling that it was probably “that stupid tart my friend brought home”, so I agreed and even threw in a “she sounds like a mess!”. I did nothing to help this situation. I took a few photos of him struggling, snapped them to Joan, giggled a bit, then passed the fuck out -because I’m obviously that sort of “fun time” that you take home, locks you out of your bathroom, giggles while you’re struggling, then passes out… and I was probably drooling all over the place. I’m a gem, guys..I really am. Tinder should probably use this story as a testimonial on their site.

The next morning when I woke up for work, my Dodger and I were both still drunk. Still wearing the REALLY short romper I was in the night before, I stole a t-shirt from the Dodger, threw it over my clothes to give myself a little more length in the material department and made my way home. How I managed to get a ride home is still beyond me. Luckily, I made it home with enough time to brush my teeth, and throw my hair up.

After getting home, I found what the night had left of Joan… She was not only still drunk, but had lost her underwear at some point. Apparently she and her friend both woke up with random cuts and bruises and were 80% sure that they beat the shit out of each other during what we assume was really intense foreplay or a back alley fight club. Joan threw up in the bathroom at work twice, and I walked around looking like someone ran me over…twice.

Joan and I had a pretty successful night. We decided being sailors was probably for us, and that we should probably find a boat and take our show to the sea.

*I had talked to the Dodger  for somewhere around a week. He was also not actually a dodger. Just an athlete (team unknown). He was gorgeous, and lovely but we didn’t have a lot in common outside of us both liking his statuesque body. Joan is still really good friend’s with her Tinder Tackle turned bestie.

Do I have any ex or current Tinder users out there in my following!? Or any other site for that matter? I know Tinder doesn’t have the best reputation, and to be honest, I never took tinder seriously. I basically used it to try out different personalities for fun. My next Tinder Tale will be about how one of my best friends and I posed as a lesbian couple looking for a “third”, just for a good laugh (I’m an asshole)…and for the free drinks. 😉

To Be Continued,

B&B

 

Relationship Milestones

 

Relationship milestones are a total right-of-passage, and these “benchmarks” are hilarious and spot-on

I can’t say I’ve had anyone go to the bathroom while I was brushing teeth -that would be disturbing- but I do remember the first time I went without makeup in front of a mate. I don’t wear a lot of makeup, but it was freeing to have a clean face and relax without worrying about falling asleep with mascara on (because it’s the absolute worst).

I have had a few ladies message me, to talk to me about the phases of adjustment in a new relationship. Sometimes adjustments are awkward and uncomfortable.

Relationships new and old: how many of you remember these milestones?? These little (but big) relationship  “benchmarks” should be celebrated, because as I’ve said, relationships are fucking hard and any victory (small or big) is a win!

To Be Continued,

B&B

Drunk Text That Ex

imageUnless you’re me, and your drunk alter ego is a shady c**t who erases all evidence that you drunk texted AND called your ex the night before.

This is why it’s important to deal with our shit during the day, guys… If we push our feelings down, they’ll bubble up and demand to be acknowledged when we’re in NO capacity to deal with them.

I’m Basic&Bipolar, and I am a chronic drunk texter.

So, apparently after four+ vodkas, I decided to tell my ex he still hasn’t given my movies back after several requests, and “damnit I want them back. They’re mine, you fuck!” -which is wildly embarrassing, and we all know how well anyone would comply to a request like that.

Are any of you equally as embarrassing when drunk and irritated!? -Because I’m embarrassing, and I love a good ‘hot mess’ story! I want to hear ‘m -I know I’m not the only crazy ass out there!

To Be Continued,

B&B

Stagnation

 Relationships without passion: they happen to us all

Lately, I’ve been thinking about romantic relationship dynamics  and the people in my life who I think are either just tolerating their relationships or are wildly unhappy. And from what I’ve noticed in the love lives of my friends and family members, it seems to be a theme that a person ought to settle until something better comes along… Or they stay in these stagnant (and non-passionate) relationships because there’s so much history there.

This realization obviously saddens me (and should sadden us all), because these loved ones are not only settling, but nurturing an unwanted flower with tainted water. Relationships are fucking hard any time two people are involved (I say two people, because my cat and I get along beautifully).

Why bother putting work into a relationship with someone who you don’t really feel excited to be with?

These musings came to me while I was with my friend, discussing a relationship that ended a lifetime ago. It was a saga that went on for years, and it took me a really long time to realize that this individual didn’t give the slightest shit about what was important to me in life. All of the causes that are near and dear to my heart, he never asked about or took interest in my thoughts on them. This was someone who allegedly loved me, but never really knew or liked anything about me as a societal being. The stuff I care about and invest my time into is a HUGE part of who I am. Looking back, I can’t really figure out why he hung around so long if he had no interest in the entirety of who I am.

So, I then decided to look at the relationships of my loved ones….and that’s how I arrived at the mindset that a lot of them are just waiting around until they find something better. Someone whose interests better align with theirs.

After it took so long for me to realize that my past relationship was just a place-holder for a better mate, I never want to be in that type of relationship again. I want to be excited to be with someone; I want to feel honored to be in their life, and vice versa-and I want all of these things for my loved ones (this extends to each of my beautiful readers).

Maybe I’m wrong, and there’s nothing wrong with settling. These are just the musings of one woman.

To Be Continued,

B&B

Emily I

Poem II, from contributor Kevin Sullivan:

I woke up this morning to the sound of your feet touching the floor.

I pretended to be asleep, but you’ve always had a heavy step and I’ve always been a less than convincing liar.

You still left all the same; no goodbyes, no shame.

I got up as soon as the door closed. I set my bed on fire and forgot my mistakes.

I can’t blame myself for being weak when pitted against someone so strong. So I’ll keep making excuses night after night and keep making my bed of ashes.

I’ll welcome you back with open arms but turn my gaze to the floor because I can’t look you in the eye anymore.

My embrace will be as hollow as my I love you’s.

And you’ll go on forgetting you were ever wrong. You’ll go on thinking that everything is right in the world while I suffocate in my discontent.

This is the bed I’ve made; this is the bed I’ve burned; and this is the bed I’ll always crawl back into.


As always, your feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Thanks for reading, friends! 

B&B

Transphobic Remarks at the Golden Globes

I wanted to take a break from my typical life musings to talk about the Golden Globe controversy.

Ricky Gervais was accused of being transphobic at the Golden Globes (click highlighted name to view footage).

In the video, Gervais says:  “I’m going to be nice tonight. I’ve changed. Not as much as Bruce Jenner, obviously… now Caitlyn Jenner. What a year she’s had. She became a role model for trans people everywhere, showing great bravery in breaking down barriers and destroying stereotypes … She didn’t do a lot for women drivers, but you can’t have everything, can you?”

After receiving a lot of criticism for his choice of jest, he published a few related tweets:


What do you guys think? Is that transphobic? …as a follower of his career, I find it to be typical Gervais sexism comedy. I expect nothing less from him -not that I deem casual sexism acceptable in the slightest. I’m having a hard time viewing these comments as transphobic, and I also think these allegations towards him might be distracting us from discussing the frequency of casual sexism in comedy routines.

I want to hear your thoughts -my opinions are only that of one woman. How do you feel about his comments?

B&B 

NoChillChicksHere

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I am the furthest thing from being a “cool chick”.

This is my dating reality: 

I have no idea how to navigate the dating world. I know what type of relationship I want, but I have no idea how to weed through contenders. You’d think I’d have better asshole radar after a decade of dating, but I don’t. And I want to stab myself in the eye every time I hear the phrase “I’m just looking for a chill chick to, you know, hang with.”

Let’s discuss the phenomenon that is “the cool chick”

This concept is one that is pushed on women a lot. I absolutely hate the concept of her. She’s not real: she’s a sexist concept that was probably created by beer commercials.  From what I gather, a “cool” or “chill” chick is the following: unbothered by flakey-ness, DTF always, never gets too emotional, never gets jealous, loves “dude” activities (whatever that means), doesn’t need relationship labels, she’s adventurous, fearless, and is basically a guy with tits.

I have a few ladies in my coven that would fit the majority of those characteristics…but never too emotional? Always unbothered by flakey-ness? …that’s where I, and most women get lost: flakey-ness should never be tolerated, and being emotional is not a negative behavior. We should celebrate uniqueness from one another, and our emotions are one of those unique things we should not be ashamed to celebrate.

If someone stands me up or flakes on me multiple times, I will probably rid my life of that person (romantic or not). I don’t always like “dude” activities -I hate video games (if that’s a dude activity), and I only have sports knowledge when it’s relevant to me. I like labels (and label makers!), as I find that they assist in providing comfort in budding relationships. I am pretty adventurous, but I’m not even mildly fearless…. as I am afraid of almost everything. I am extremely emotional, and I have no shame in letting it be known that I basically have multiple personalities.

Yeah, I’m definitely not an ideal “cool chick”, and dating in my mid-twenties has been a total grab bag of mixed results. Unrealistic expectations make dating even harder. Women are not two-dimensional creatures. You can’t get the woman that loves sports, AND likes to keep things casual for THREE years. That’s not a thing, guys. We have complex personalities. We aren’t…men. I will probably always be adventurous, but also extremely neurotic and love labels (of all kinds).

Basically, dating in my twenties is the worst. And down with this “chill chick” concept!

To Be Continued,

B&B 

Crazy exes

A girlfriend of mine was just telling me about a “crazy ex girlfriend” story she had heard this weekend, and how grossed out she felt about this girl’s ex telling this story to a complete stranger. That poor woman. Wherever she is. Whoever she is.

How unfair that people seldom share their role in a messy breakup. Share your stories! Message me or comment on the page-I want to hear about you being depicted as the “big bad”, or someone you know being unfairly portrayed after a breakup.

Post eleven will include my feelings on situations like this, and my personal experience with this topic.

To Be Continued,

B&B

New Year, Same Me

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Happy New Year, new friends and old. Cheers to always being the same asshole at 12:01 on January 1st every damn year!

Today I thought I’d take some time to talk about new beginnings:

It’s a new year! This is when we set our intentions for the year, list our goals that we want to achieve over the next 365 days, and really allow ourselves to enjoy that we get to start a brand new chapter. But what about what we’re leaving behind, and what about the stuff that lingered with us into 2016?

I love new beginnings, but it’s hard when it’s different from what I had pictured in the months leading to this new year. I experienced a breakup last year. It’s not my first, and I highly doubt it’ll be my last (I’m just being realistic). I pictured starting this new year with someone who will no longer be in my life, and that still stings a little.

I feel that it’s becoming less socially acceptable to openly talk about sadness, and things that we feel negatively about. Positivity pushers are always so quick to remind you that there is always a silver lining, and though I can be one of those people, I am also someone that says “yes, there is a silver lining, but let me experience this loss and grieve the end of my relationship in a way that is true to me.” New beginnings are beautiful, and should be celebrated, but I can’t put on a party hat and pretend this was a new beginning that I was thrilled to greet.

I wasn’t looking forward to this holiday, guys. I closed a chapter on something I felt hadn’t even gotten the chance to be truly great. In dating years, I feel like I’m 110 a lot of the time. I’m tired of dating, and I’m tired of it not working out. Having something that felt right and great, and then having it not work out had really put a damper on the end of my year. So, I felt really grumpy about New Years. I didn’t even celebrate it. I had no urge to celebrate this holiday that reminded me that I failed.

So, that’s what this post was going to be about. I was going to share my feelings, and leave it on a “sometimes, our emotional baggage lingers with us…and that’s okay” sort of note. And then I was watching parks and rec, and Ron Swanson just got done telling Tom that “ when you fail at something after you’ve given it your best shot, how is that really a failure? ..you still tried. That’s a win!” –it probably seems silly, but I think I really needed to hear that. Even coming from a fictional character in the magic box in my living room, it resonated really well with me..

And that’s how I’m viewing my lingering sad feelings in this New Year: they’re reminders that I tried.

Happy New Year, new friends and old. I hope your 2015 was amazing, and I hope 2016 brings you an immeasurable amount of happy moments.

To Be Continued,
B&B