Tinder, Exes, and Stalkers, Oh My!

Let me just get this out there now, my love life is a mess. It's either nonexistent or a mess, and honestly, I don't know which one is worse. There's just so much pressure from everyone, everywhere, on finding someone and being in a relationship, that it makes my head spin. Especially when all of your friends have boyfriends, which in my case, has been true since I first made friends in pre-school, (sorry girls, you know I love you but this is quite true). Even more so since the holidays are around, it's a constant reminder that I'm single. You can shove that mistletoe right up your ass, thank you very much.

Even though I'm extremely outgoing, I've never been one to really put myself out there dating-wise. Mostly because I truly don't give a shit and don't have time to cry over little boys who can't figure out how to dial a number. And if you can't figure out how to call - let's be serious, text- a girl, then in reality, why should I even bother with you? You're dumb, clearly. I've also always been told that I can be quite intimidating and that boys may have the tendency to feel inferior to me, (could you tell from the previous sentence?). But you know what I have to say to that? Grow a fucking set, man up and be happy with a woman who isn't afraid to be successful, confident, and driven.

With all of that being said, my equally-as-confident best friend and I happened to have been going through pretty rough break-ups at the same time and after we each took some time for ourselves and reflected back on what could have been, my main girl decided it was time that we get our asses in gear and get back into the dating game. As a result, Tinder became a new word in my vocabulary, (after much persuasion mind you, since my ass is as stubborn as a mule). Clearly, from my last post "A Hopeless Romantic in a World Where Romance is Hopeless," it's obvious that I am, by no means, a fan or participant in online dating, (no judging, just my opinion), but the fact that Tinder doesn't allow random creeps with fake pictures to message you, it seemed a little bit better in my book.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Tinder, here is a quick run-down. Tinder is a dating app that you can download on your phone, but you must have a Facebook for it to be able to build your Tinder profile. None of your personal information will be put on Tinder, just your first name, age and a few photos, and Tinder will never post anything on your Facebook. All I need is people scrolling through their newsfeed and seeing "Jaclyn has a new Tinder match!" but I guess I just blew up my own spot now, so there goes that. You can then adjust your settings to what gender you're looking for, the age range and the maximum miles away you want the other person to be. Then, let the games begin! Pictures of different people come up and you can either swipe to the left if you don't like them or swipe to the right if you do. If you both like each other, then you are able to message each other.

Granted, even though you have to like someone back for them to be able to message you, you will still get the dirtiest, most inappropriate, eye-rolling messages, I promise you. I've had guys send me messages about their size, (no, not their shoe size, silly), my boobs, what they want to do to me, and where I can meet them at 3:30 a.m., because yes, I absolutely decided to become the next Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman." But, obviously all of this was expected because even though it's an app, Tinder is still a form of dating through social media. Have I had any luck? Well sure, there's been a few guys that have sparked my fancy but hey, I'm not about to end up in a ditch somewhere because I met a guy off of Tinder, (does "The Craigslist Killer" ring any bells?). Perhaps I'll toy with the idea of saying yes to a date if some of my girl friends can tailgate us with spy wear kits, you know like Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen style- "We'll solve any crime by dinner time!"

I blame two of the reasons I was persuaded into joining Tinder on my ex, and my so-called stalker. Honestly, I thought my ex was the one, but he got scared and ran away, (what the fuck else is new), so that idea turned to shit real fast. Then, low and behold, just when I was down and out about my ex, a twice-divorced 42-year-old man, (yes, because that's exactly my type, how did he know?), decides he likes my personality, oh yeah, and my rack, and starts showing up at my work everyday, sometimes just to say hi. Greattttttttt. So, with an ex that left me high and dry, and a stalker that's up my ass, and looking down my shirt, I turned to what seemed like a last resort, Tinder. And honestly, if that's any single girl's last resort, then honey, we're all doomed.

A Hopeless Romantic In A World Where Romance Is Hopeless

Can I just ask what the hell happened to dating? Shall we just ponder that question for a few minutes? What happened to men being gentlemen and women being ladies? What happened to chivalry? It’s not hard to walk an extra 15 feet to open up the passenger side door. Honestly, when did men stop being gentlemen and earn the title of douchebags?

Take it back to the beginning; as little girls we were always taught to believe in true love, prince charming and happily ever after. Who in part can we thank for that? Why, Disney of course! We were all brought up watching “Cinderella,” “Sleeping Beauty,” “Snow White,” etc., which taught us all at young age that someday our prince will come for us, show us the meaning of true love and we would live happily ever after. Now in the 21^st century, you’re lucky to even get a guy to call when he said he would, forget the glass slipper or even flowers for fucks sake.

But we’re no longer little 6 year olds in Belle footy pajamas enthralled with Disney love stories, oh no, we’ve moved on to Victoria's Secret sweat pants and Nicholas Sparks’ movies. Again, even at 24, we’re told that this magical true love still does exist. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely believe that it does, I would just like to know where the hell it is.

Guys no longer want to commit, even in their late 20’s, (when the stigma says they should), and all girls want is a commitment; it’s a lose-lose situation. It’s hard to meet someone anywhere anymore, especially in a bar because honestly, slurring your words and spilling your drink on me is not going to make my panties drop, sorry.  

It also seems that guys are little girls when it comes to settling down and committing, they’re scared shitless. Why are they so terrified that some girl is actually going to make them happy enough that they don’t have to go looking for random vagina every night? God forbid. My favorite scenario is when you’re dating a guy for a few months, all is well and then one day they just disappear, poof, gone; like hello did you die? And then if you try to text them and find out why they disappeared, you're automatically deemed as psycho and crazy; is that a joke? Why does this happen you ask? Because ladies, our tits are bigger than their balls.

Although dating during our 20’s can be extremely discouraging and heartbreaking, there are so many different ways to cope. You can always write a song about your shitty ex and then make millions off of your heartbreak like Taylor Swift; now that’s my kind of girl. Selling your ex’s soul to the devil to make a quick million is one of the best revenges I’ve ever seen. Sure, Taylor’s had her heartbroken time and time again, but so have we, and guess what? She’s laughing all the way to the bank.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to come off as some cynical, heartbroken 24-year-old but I will tell it like it is, and guys, this is what you look like to us women. Just stop disappointing us and yourselves and do us all a favor and start acting like true gentlemen again, you might even find a girl with some respect for themselves then. Like I said before, I do believe in true love and happily ever after, I really do. I feel like I’m one of the few hopeless romantics left in this world because yes, I do believe there is a prince charming out there for me and for you too. All of these Disney movies and Nicholas Sparks movies are based on it, so it does exist somewhere out there. And like the saying goes, there’s plenty of fish in the sea, hell there’s even a dating website for it now. But you know what? I fucking hate fishing, so I think I'll just wait to be reeled in by my prince charming, thank you very much.

How Stella, I Mean Jaclyn, Finally Got Her Groove Back

Seeing as how Kim Kardashian is now 33, engaged to Kanye West, (you know, the most humble man alive), and even managed to make her ass bigger by popping out a kid, it clearly has been one hell of a long time since I've last written a post for this blog. To be honest, I actually forgot about this blog and even forgot how much I loved to write; I lost my spark, to say the least.

I believe it all started going downhill for me after I graduated college, big surprise there right? I'm pretty sure every college graduate from the past few years is nodding their head in agreement with me here. Flashback to May 2011, I was a fresh-faced, naïve college graduate who thought every door of every magazine company was going to open up just for me, red carpet and all, and offer me the best editing job ever. Hold on one moment while I pop my own bubble and drag my ass back down to reality. Want to know what really happened? I couldn't get a job. Oh, my mistake I actually did have two jobs. I was a journalism major who worked at Starbucks and was a nanny. Wow, I was really going places in life.

After six months of constant rejection and way too much loneliness for a social butterfly such as myself, I decided I no longer liked how unkind New York had been treating me. So, I packed my shit up, moved out of my apartment and moved back into my parents house in Rhode Island. Now, mind you, I am fully aware that there is no Cosmopolitan or Entertainment Weekly even close to the perimeter of RI, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices and I sacrificed my career for my own personal happiness. Judge all you like but it was a decision that had to be made and honestly, I don't regret it one bit.

Present day: it's been two and a half years after I graduated college and, am I where I thought I would be? No, absolutely not. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I still managed to live this Carrie Bradshaw-lifestyle in RI because anyone who knows me will easily call me out on my shit. Plus, nobody likes a liar, now do they? Anyways, I've come to realize that within the last two years, I had lost my love of writing. It's quite unfortunate seeing as how it's one of my main passions, (besides TV, you did see the title of this blog, right?), and something I knew I had wanted to do since I was a kid. I think sometimes its very easy to doubt your own talents and let them fall through the cracks especially since rejection, of any kind, is disheartening to say the least. But, with recent realizations, inspirations, epiphanies, and much needed kicks in the ass from some pretty amazing people (Kyle, Laura, Meaghan, Christina, Jenna, and Sira), I am getting back to my roots, getting back to my passion, and finally, getting my groove back.