Saturday, May 7, 2011
OKCupid Message
Now, I'm hesitant to post verbatim messages from OKCupid on here. It feels a little icky, and I would hate to stumble upon a blog calling me unintelligent or uncreative. So I will let the message I received today speak for itself.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Don't Tell Me That!
Yesterday, I dressed like a total hobo. It was Monday. I was tired, unshowered, a little cranky, and just generally hobo-ish. I wore leggings that I'd accidentally shrunk in the dryer so they didn't quite make it past my calves, and a boyfriend sweater. It was humid, my hair was frizzy, and I had an early doctor's appointment so I hadn't even washed my face and residual makeup from the day before was caked on my face.
Essentially, I looked like a hot mess.
Now, as a young woman in New York City, you're bound to get hit on on a semi-regular basis. I'd say conservatively once a week, no matter WHO you are or WHAT you looked like. Usually, it doesn't matter, and I'm good at either being dismissive or playing aloof and ignoring it all.
There are a few instances where getting hit on is rather unfortunate.
1) When you're walking in the same direction as someone and they just keep following you.
2) When they're super aggressive and then get angry when dismissed/ignored.
3) When they're standing right outside your doctor's office when you are cranky and look like a homeless person.
This guy (probably mid 30s) was standing right outside my office building. He started talking to me when I was a solid twenty feet away. "Hey gorgeous. You are so beautiful, look at her, isn't she so beautiful. How are you doing? How's this morning going?" I tried to play aloof but as I was walking RIGHT to where he was standing, it made things a little more complicated. He was standing with the office doorman (a guy I actually really like/have talked to). The doorman just looked kind of embarrassed. I did as well. As I walk into the building my admirer tried again, "You are so gorgeous, baby!" Seeing as I couldn't find a way to ignore this and I was late, I just said "Thanks." He replied with the classic, "No, thank YOU."
Finally, I escaped the lobby. I went up to my doctor's appointment feeling rejuvenated and much less cranky. When I got back downstairs my friend and the doorman were standing in the lobby, I said a quick goodbye (mainly to the doorman) and made my way toward the west side.
I hadn't gotten much more than a block when I hear this panting beside me. I turn to my right, and sure enough, there is my friend from before, sweaty and heaving next to me. "Hey, so, I waited for you to be done and then you left so quickly so I had to run down the block, but I wanted to give you this and see if I can buy you breakfast sometime." He handed me a folded note and I said "Oh." He turned the corner and said "Call me!" and I think I made some kind of awkward uncomfortable noise and scooted away.
Now, to be fair, there is no situation that I would call this guy. His odds of getting my number from the START were not very good. However, here is a couple pointers of how he could've done this better.
1) Don't tell me that you sat in a lobby and waited for me to be done with a doctor's appointment to. That is creepy and intense.
2) Don't sprint down the block to the point where you are out of breath and sweating. As any of my friends can attest, I am not a speed walker.
3) Don't tell me that you sprinted down the block to catch up with me.
4) Breakfast? Is that the ideal date? Even brunch would sound appealing.
If he had just left his number with the doorman, I would feel considerably less creeped out by this entire situation. So... sorry Leonardo. Not going to meet you for breakfast!
I only hope he's not there the next time I have to go to the doctor...
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Get the picture Haikus!
I was talking to Miss Dorothea tonight about a boy who I went on a date with a couple weeks ago, who I was hoping to avoid the "I'm not interested in you" conversation with. However, when he kept texting, calling, emailing, and FACEBOOK chatting, I decided the right thing to do was to let him that I no longer felt a spark.
Miss Dorothea and I wrote some haikus in honor of this occasion:
I thought you were cute
emphasis on the past tense
please do not call me.
Hey. Sup? Where R U?
U there? How's it going? Hi!
I'M NOT INTO YOU
U there? How's it going? Hi!
I'M NOT INTO YOU
we talked maybe once
that does not mean we're in love
I'll change my screen name.
hard to get is fun
but no reply for a week
means leave me alone.
but no reply for a week
means leave me alone.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Date Tonight!
I am going on a date tonight and have not felt so excited/nervous about one in a long time! Going to a midnight showing of a movie, with a little tea time before.
Fingers crossed that this will be good, but I am spazzy excited.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Belated post-Valentine's musings
I have very mixed feelings about Valentine's Day.
There was a time -- back in my teenage years -- when I dreamed of getting a rose on Valentine's Day. Naturally the rose would be accompanied by a declaration of deep love. And of course this never happened. I didn't have a boyfriend and there weren't any bold secret admirers lurking in the background.
So. I admit that my opinions might be based in old disappointment. But now that I'm older, I am significantly less romantic. When boys start talking about love, I get uncomfortable. I just can't take Valentine's Day seriously.
Reason 1: We all know it was a day invented to sell cards and jewelry and chocolate.
Reason 2: I am a very private and stoic person, and the idea of spending a day being all mushy and lovey-dovey sets my teeth on edge.
Reason 3: I ate two boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 48 hours and dear God I don't need people giving me candy.
My past couple of Valentine's Days were easy. Last year, I was in a long-distance relationship and we just sent each other handmade cards. We were both poor underemployed college graduates, so no gifts required. The year before that, I had dated the boy for about two and a half weeks. We ate some cheap Chinese food and then went to a house party. No pressure and no gooeyness.
But this Valentine's Day, I was nine months into a relationship with someone new. I was nervous. Would he want to do something? Did I want to do something? Could I admit that I wanted to do something?
To my intense relief, he was the one to bring it up about three weeks before the day. I was quick to say "oh, I don't believe in that Valentine's stuff."
I expected him to agree, but his response was surprising. "I know that it's a Hallmark holiday, but I think it can be nice. Some women wouldn't get any romance at all if there wasn't a day set aside for it. No reason not to do it for one day out of the year."
(Um. Keeper?)
We decided on dinner at a nice restaurant we both wanted to try. I got excited to eat some tasty expensive food. Then, in the couple weeks leading up to it, he began mentioning getting me a gift.
"Oh, you don't need to get me something," I said. His answer: "I know I don't have to, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't."
And suddenly, to my surprise, I felt really happy. Maybe I did care about Valentine's after all?
A week later, the warm fuzzies turned into panic. What was I doing? Me, who prided myself on being such a feminist and rejecting traditional gender roles. He was getting me a gift. I needed to get him a gift!!!!!
I brooded. Chocolate? That seems so cliched and impersonal. Flowers? I didn't think boys were into that. Cuff links? I couldn't imagine him wearing such a thing. Nice beer? That's what a guy friend would get him for his birthday.
I brooded some more. I fretted. I looked everywhere. And then finally, on my lunch hour on Valentine's Day itself, I went to Borders and bought a hardback Star Wars graphic novel. Not romantic. Not sexy. Not hardly. But I knew he would enjoy it.
(Confession: I spent the entire day secretly hoping flowers would arrive with my name. No such luck. Of course that wouldn't happen -- he was far too poor to order from a florist in addition to going to dinner.)
Our reservation was at 6:30, so we both RAN home from work and shuffled into nice clothes at his place. (Another confession: still no flowers.) When I came downstairs, he was holding a gift wrapped in a plastic bag. (No, literally wrapped. Like you would wrap with wrapping paper.)
"I got you something too!" I said. He looked nervous.
"Oh, really?"
I nodded, feeling insecure. Then we headed out the door.
He wanted to open the gifts at dinner, while we waited for our food to come out. He handed me mine first. It was plastered with tape and I struggled to rip off the plastic bag. Finally I pulled back the wrapping and beheld the gift below.
It was a book. The cover featured a cartoon woman wearing flaming goggles. It read: "Graphic Women: Life Narrative and Contemporary Comics."
I stared down and considered this. No flowers. No chocolate. No jewelry. Instead, a serious academic gender theory book about female comics writers.
Not romantic at all. Except... that it was perhaps the perfect gift for a girl who refused to admit an interest in Valentine's Day, and insisted on paying for half the meal and buying her boyfriend a gift too. So maybe that did make it romantic. Because he knew me that well.
I looked up and smiled at him widely. And I told him it was awesome, because it was.
Next he opened my gift and started smiling as well. Then he realized it was comics and got even more excited. I'm sure the people at the table next to us thought we were complete weirdos.
And I think the moral is: if you are dating the right person, Valentine's Day will work itself out.
There was a time -- back in my teenage years -- when I dreamed of getting a rose on Valentine's Day. Naturally the rose would be accompanied by a declaration of deep love. And of course this never happened. I didn't have a boyfriend and there weren't any bold secret admirers lurking in the background.
So. I admit that my opinions might be based in old disappointment. But now that I'm older, I am significantly less romantic. When boys start talking about love, I get uncomfortable. I just can't take Valentine's Day seriously.
Reason 1: We all know it was a day invented to sell cards and jewelry and chocolate.
Reason 2: I am a very private and stoic person, and the idea of spending a day being all mushy and lovey-dovey sets my teeth on edge.
Reason 3: I ate two boxes of Girl Scout cookies in 48 hours and dear God I don't need people giving me candy.
My past couple of Valentine's Days were easy. Last year, I was in a long-distance relationship and we just sent each other handmade cards. We were both poor underemployed college graduates, so no gifts required. The year before that, I had dated the boy for about two and a half weeks. We ate some cheap Chinese food and then went to a house party. No pressure and no gooeyness.
But this Valentine's Day, I was nine months into a relationship with someone new. I was nervous. Would he want to do something? Did I want to do something? Could I admit that I wanted to do something?
To my intense relief, he was the one to bring it up about three weeks before the day. I was quick to say "oh, I don't believe in that Valentine's stuff."
I expected him to agree, but his response was surprising. "I know that it's a Hallmark holiday, but I think it can be nice. Some women wouldn't get any romance at all if there wasn't a day set aside for it. No reason not to do it for one day out of the year."
(Um. Keeper?)
We decided on dinner at a nice restaurant we both wanted to try. I got excited to eat some tasty expensive food. Then, in the couple weeks leading up to it, he began mentioning getting me a gift.
"Oh, you don't need to get me something," I said. His answer: "I know I don't have to, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't."
And suddenly, to my surprise, I felt really happy. Maybe I did care about Valentine's after all?
A week later, the warm fuzzies turned into panic. What was I doing? Me, who prided myself on being such a feminist and rejecting traditional gender roles. He was getting me a gift. I needed to get him a gift!!!!!
I brooded. Chocolate? That seems so cliched and impersonal. Flowers? I didn't think boys were into that. Cuff links? I couldn't imagine him wearing such a thing. Nice beer? That's what a guy friend would get him for his birthday.
I brooded some more. I fretted. I looked everywhere. And then finally, on my lunch hour on Valentine's Day itself, I went to Borders and bought a hardback Star Wars graphic novel. Not romantic. Not sexy. Not hardly. But I knew he would enjoy it.
(Confession: I spent the entire day secretly hoping flowers would arrive with my name. No such luck. Of course that wouldn't happen -- he was far too poor to order from a florist in addition to going to dinner.)
Our reservation was at 6:30, so we both RAN home from work and shuffled into nice clothes at his place. (Another confession: still no flowers.) When I came downstairs, he was holding a gift wrapped in a plastic bag. (No, literally wrapped. Like you would wrap with wrapping paper.)
"I got you something too!" I said. He looked nervous.
"Oh, really?"
I nodded, feeling insecure. Then we headed out the door.
He wanted to open the gifts at dinner, while we waited for our food to come out. He handed me mine first. It was plastered with tape and I struggled to rip off the plastic bag. Finally I pulled back the wrapping and beheld the gift below.
It was a book. The cover featured a cartoon woman wearing flaming goggles. It read: "Graphic Women: Life Narrative and Contemporary Comics."
I stared down and considered this. No flowers. No chocolate. No jewelry. Instead, a serious academic gender theory book about female comics writers.
Not romantic at all. Except... that it was perhaps the perfect gift for a girl who refused to admit an interest in Valentine's Day, and insisted on paying for half the meal and buying her boyfriend a gift too. So maybe that did make it romantic. Because he knew me that well.
I looked up and smiled at him widely. And I told him it was awesome, because it was.
Next he opened my gift and started smiling as well. Then he realized it was comics and got even more excited. I'm sure the people at the table next to us thought we were complete weirdos.
And I think the moral is: if you are dating the right person, Valentine's Day will work itself out.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Cute Boys = Dumb Girls
I'm the first to admit that I have a weird dating history. For years, I spent most of my time telling boys to GO AWAY... but that wasn't my fault, not really.
I'm a creeper-magnet. I've been stalked, propositioned by old men, chased down dark alleyways, threatened with suicide if I didn't date guys... It took me a long time to realize that males might useful for something other than friendship.
...Unfortunately, I didn't figure that out until after college, when it becomes exceedingly difficult to make new friends, let alone boyfriends. So, like many others, I turned to the internet.
I've had two six-month-ish relationships come out of OkCupid, and a lot of weird dates (more on those some other time), but overall, I've determined that most guys bore me, and I approach dates with apathy. As a result, my lack of expectation makes me somehow charming and appealing, and while the guy finds himself fast falling, I find myself wondering if I can go yet.
For some reason, tonight was different. I was excited! Nervous, even! Looking forward to my date!
And it made me dumb. Not dumb stupid, dumb quiet. Dumb awkward. And maybe also a little stupid.
I wasn't my normal, charming self. I couldn't think of clever, appealing things to say, and I think that because I was so quiet and awkward, he didn't know what to do, so he was quiet and awkward.
He walked me to my car, and said that he didn't know what to think. "Maybe you were nervous?" he asked.
"No... I, um, nooo?"
"Well, okay. Um."
On the drive home, I texted him at a stoplight. "No, you're right. I was nervous. But in my defense, you're really cute."
Maybe he'll give me a second chance to charm him. Normally, that's my job.
Friday, February 25, 2011
OkCupid Pet Peeve #1: This isn't 1999 anymore...
Inspired by the wonderful Tumblr OhHelloThereYou, I decided to focus on some of my personal pet peeves on OkCupid, now that I'm back on the site, shifting through the women on it.
These posts will cross-post with my own personal Tumblr (link provided).
On-line dating pet peeve #1: Adhering to a pre-2000 rule that “online dating is for shut-ins, nerds, and for the painfully socially awkward.”
Here’s what this tells me: You already are embarrassed to be on OkCupid in the first place… what a wonderful precedent you’re setting right off the bat.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Valentine's Day
I know, I know. You're wondering how a blog centered around dating managed to miss a post about Valentine's Day. As I am single (forever and always), my day consisted of getting dinner with an old intern of mine and then seeing Ethan Hawke in various stages of undress for three hours (Blood from A Stone by New Group!). Which, to be honest, was not a bad way to go.
However my real circa-Feb 14 story was from the night before. There was a Groupon for a singles party on February 13th that was a cheapo admission for two people. I dragged one of my best friends along with me. She had met a cute Australian the night before so I told her that her primary duty would by my wingwoman. We polished off a bottle of wine at her apartment and with my significantly lower tolerance, I was in a good place to be put into a potentially awkward/hilarious situation.
And I must say, she was a very good wingwoman. She knew how to work the room, how to successfully ditch people, how to get free drinks. I ended up breaking my unfortunately long dry spell and giving out my number to two guys. Both two old for me, I've soberly decided.
Bachelor #1. Now, this guy was SUPER attractive, in my humble opinion. We didn't talk very much. He gave me the eyes earlier in the evening, and I was about it. My girlfriend dragged me over to the dance floor at one point and we were dancing even though really no one else was. My friend saw this as a way to seem less lame than the rest of the girls there. Regardless of HOW we seemed, we did manage to get a certain amount of attention. The hottie from before came back and started dancing with me. My friend, as an excellent wingwoman as she is, peaced out. Before long we were kissing on a couch. I asked his name. Phil. Okay. Age? 35. Kind of old. I asked what he did and he said "I work for immigration!" I was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "So you... " -- before I could finish he jumped in with "Deport people!" I don't even know if that was what I was going to say, but it worked as a topic of conversation. "Do you like your job?" I asked, and he, ever-exuberantly replied, "Man, I LOVE it."
It was at that point exactly that I knew this wasn't meant to be. If the 12 year age difference wasn't a big enough hinderance, his true love of deporting people was a little perturbing. And he lives on Staten Island. Strike 3. I had given him my number at this point, though. I used my honed acting chops from high school and started panicking that I lost my friend. He said he'd help me find her but I managed to lose him (or he managed to lose himself) in the swarm of single people. He did not call and I'm a little relieved, frankly.
Bachelor #2. My friend and I had actually spoken to this guy for a significant portion of time earlier in the evening. He was nice, but clearly older and I wasn't very attracted to him. He bought us drinks though and we had a nice enough time until my friend and I decided to go to the bathroom and then dancing etc. (see Bachelor #1). This story picks up pretty well from Bachelor #1. After successfully ditching my hottie deportation officer, I sincerely was looking for my friend and ran into Bachelor #2, who had met her, and who I enlisted to help me locate her.
Now, this guy is nice and smart. Got a Masters from Columbia and now works for a respected local news organization. He was really kind. After we couldn't find my friend he asked me to dance. Dancing turned to kissing and we discovered the lower level of the bar/club place we were in, sat under the stair well and made out for a little. I'm fairly inebriated at this point in the evening, and I don't think I was particularly nice to this guy. I discovered he was 37 and I think I kept telling him he was too old for me. I would bark orders at him while we were kissing. Inhibitions were gone and I didn't care. Eventually we see my friend walking up the stairs with a sleazy looking blonde guy and I run to her. She seems relieved to see me and pushes me against a wall and tells me to save her from said sleazy guy. So we just talk in each other's faces until the creeper goes away. She finds it funny that I've reconnected with Bachelor #2 and the three of us galavant around the bar and hang out until it was time to leave.
I gave Bachelor #2 my phone number while stealing french fries from off-duty security people. Ten kinds of classy going on here. He called me two days later, and I still haven't called him back. Truth is: a 14 year age difference is a lot. And I'm not super attracted to him.
Also one of my other friends managed to find his OKCupid profile and I clicked on it without knowing what I was getting myself into. So now I look like a total creeper. So that's probably that.
The night gave me a certain confidence I was lacking before. Since November, I've been on a self-improvement mission that has been relatively successful so far, but my dating took a backseat to myself. Now, I've been on a few random dates, but I'm not interested in spending time with people who I don't really like. I have great friends, and any person I date should meet should meet the high bar they've set. I truly love my friends and really feel loved in my life while remaining very single. But it's nice to feel wanted and attractive and feel like the measures I'm taking are not going unnoticed. I have hope that when I really throw myself back into dating, I may have more success because of the work I've put in.
Time will tell!
However my real circa-Feb 14 story was from the night before. There was a Groupon for a singles party on February 13th that was a cheapo admission for two people. I dragged one of my best friends along with me. She had met a cute Australian the night before so I told her that her primary duty would by my wingwoman. We polished off a bottle of wine at her apartment and with my significantly lower tolerance, I was in a good place to be put into a potentially awkward/hilarious situation.
And I must say, she was a very good wingwoman. She knew how to work the room, how to successfully ditch people, how to get free drinks. I ended up breaking my unfortunately long dry spell and giving out my number to two guys. Both two old for me, I've soberly decided.
Bachelor #1. Now, this guy was SUPER attractive, in my humble opinion. We didn't talk very much. He gave me the eyes earlier in the evening, and I was about it. My girlfriend dragged me over to the dance floor at one point and we were dancing even though really no one else was. My friend saw this as a way to seem less lame than the rest of the girls there. Regardless of HOW we seemed, we did manage to get a certain amount of attention. The hottie from before came back and started dancing with me. My friend, as an excellent wingwoman as she is, peaced out. Before long we were kissing on a couch. I asked his name. Phil. Okay. Age? 35. Kind of old. I asked what he did and he said "I work for immigration!" I was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "So you... " -- before I could finish he jumped in with "Deport people!" I don't even know if that was what I was going to say, but it worked as a topic of conversation. "Do you like your job?" I asked, and he, ever-exuberantly replied, "Man, I LOVE it."
It was at that point exactly that I knew this wasn't meant to be. If the 12 year age difference wasn't a big enough hinderance, his true love of deporting people was a little perturbing. And he lives on Staten Island. Strike 3. I had given him my number at this point, though. I used my honed acting chops from high school and started panicking that I lost my friend. He said he'd help me find her but I managed to lose him (or he managed to lose himself) in the swarm of single people. He did not call and I'm a little relieved, frankly.
Bachelor #2. My friend and I had actually spoken to this guy for a significant portion of time earlier in the evening. He was nice, but clearly older and I wasn't very attracted to him. He bought us drinks though and we had a nice enough time until my friend and I decided to go to the bathroom and then dancing etc. (see Bachelor #1). This story picks up pretty well from Bachelor #1. After successfully ditching my hottie deportation officer, I sincerely was looking for my friend and ran into Bachelor #2, who had met her, and who I enlisted to help me locate her.
Now, this guy is nice and smart. Got a Masters from Columbia and now works for a respected local news organization. He was really kind. After we couldn't find my friend he asked me to dance. Dancing turned to kissing and we discovered the lower level of the bar/club place we were in, sat under the stair well and made out for a little. I'm fairly inebriated at this point in the evening, and I don't think I was particularly nice to this guy. I discovered he was 37 and I think I kept telling him he was too old for me. I would bark orders at him while we were kissing. Inhibitions were gone and I didn't care. Eventually we see my friend walking up the stairs with a sleazy looking blonde guy and I run to her. She seems relieved to see me and pushes me against a wall and tells me to save her from said sleazy guy. So we just talk in each other's faces until the creeper goes away. She finds it funny that I've reconnected with Bachelor #2 and the three of us galavant around the bar and hang out until it was time to leave.
I gave Bachelor #2 my phone number while stealing french fries from off-duty security people. Ten kinds of classy going on here. He called me two days later, and I still haven't called him back. Truth is: a 14 year age difference is a lot. And I'm not super attracted to him.
Also one of my other friends managed to find his OKCupid profile and I clicked on it without knowing what I was getting myself into. So now I look like a total creeper. So that's probably that.
The night gave me a certain confidence I was lacking before. Since November, I've been on a self-improvement mission that has been relatively successful so far, but my dating took a backseat to myself. Now, I've been on a few random dates, but I'm not interested in spending time with people who I don't really like. I have great friends, and any person I date should meet should meet the high bar they've set. I truly love my friends and really feel loved in my life while remaining very single. But it's nice to feel wanted and attractive and feel like the measures I'm taking are not going unnoticed. I have hope that when I really throw myself back into dating, I may have more success because of the work I've put in.
Time will tell!
Friday, January 21, 2011
Seasonal Dating
Sorry for the lull in writing. Here is my lame attempt at an explanation:
It's my experience (which could very well be worth nothing) that there are seasonal patterns to dating.
1) Spring cleaning. The winter is over, you can finally come out of your little nest of singleton. You can wear floral, colors, nice little sweaters and jackets replace down-blankets-with-arms. Flirting becomes more fun and it's less of a chore to leave your bed/Netflix instant watch. Dates can be walks in the park and beer gardens in Queens.
2) Summer flings. Travel, summer vacations, three-month internships, and really anything that takes up your June, July and August will mix things up. You're confronted with a new bunch of people for a limited amount of time. Love is in the air. Like Sandy and Danny with their summer lovin', people pair off like there's no tomorrow. Come the fall, people have to get back to life/school/responsibility and the expiration date has come.
3) Bed warmers. Come late fall, people realize it's time to SHACK UP otherwise they will have to depend on their Snuggie(s) to keep them warm throughout winter. People relationship up, snuggle up, drink hot chocolate and go sledding and camp out under blankets until it is safe to come out.
However, I managed to miss this third deadline. So the pickings have been slim. Can't wait for longer days when all the bed warmers become my spring cleaning!
Stay tuned.
And here is a graph my brother sent me (courtesy of www.digitaltrends.com) of when couples are more likely to end their relationships via Facebook.
On a tangential note: I love how people tend to change their relationship status' on a Monday (after probably breaking up over the weekend and actually getting around to changing it on that Monday).
It's my experience (which could very well be worth nothing) that there are seasonal patterns to dating.
1) Spring cleaning. The winter is over, you can finally come out of your little nest of singleton. You can wear floral, colors, nice little sweaters and jackets replace down-blankets-with-arms. Flirting becomes more fun and it's less of a chore to leave your bed/Netflix instant watch. Dates can be walks in the park and beer gardens in Queens.
2) Summer flings. Travel, summer vacations, three-month internships, and really anything that takes up your June, July and August will mix things up. You're confronted with a new bunch of people for a limited amount of time. Love is in the air. Like Sandy and Danny with their summer lovin', people pair off like there's no tomorrow. Come the fall, people have to get back to life/school/responsibility and the expiration date has come.
3) Bed warmers. Come late fall, people realize it's time to SHACK UP otherwise they will have to depend on their Snuggie(s) to keep them warm throughout winter. People relationship up, snuggle up, drink hot chocolate and go sledding and camp out under blankets until it is safe to come out.
However, I managed to miss this third deadline. So the pickings have been slim. Can't wait for longer days when all the bed warmers become my spring cleaning!
Stay tuned.
And here is a graph my brother sent me (courtesy of www.digitaltrends.com) of when couples are more likely to end their relationships via Facebook.
On a tangential note: I love how people tend to change their relationship status' on a Monday (after probably breaking up over the weekend and actually getting around to changing it on that Monday).
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