Everyday, I'm Tinderin'...

Anyone who has ever read my various posts has realized, at least by now, that I enjoy finding men in the laziest way possible (and the only way that doesn't require putting on pants and/or showering).

Online dating is good, because you get a brief (occasionally made-up) idea of what you're dealing with but, unless you are willing to shell out some money that is better spent on pad thai per month, your stalking habits are pretty visible to the stalkee in question.

Enter Tinder.  A perfect time-waster when you run out of lives during a game of Candy Crush.

Tinder is a phone app in which you can pick and choose who you find "attractive" and maybe, just maybe, form some sort of human connection.  By swiping left on your potential interest's picture, you are most definitely not down.  By swiping right, you open yourself up to romance and vulnerability.  By "liking" someone, there is the possibility that they could "like" you too and you can actually message them.  The anonymity of Tinder is great because hearts won't be broken if the feeling ain't mutual.  But Tinder is the epitome of "judging a book by its cover".  Forget learning about someone's interests via a mini-novel... Personality be damned, give me your handsome face and tailored suit!

Yeah, I went there.  I don't take this seriously, so why should I pretend to be a non-judgmental saint?  Below are the criteria as to how I choose my gentleman, from one shallow ginger to the rest of the shallow world...

I will like you if...
- The first question I ask myself is, "Do I want to punch you in the face?" (Meaning - does your smirk rub me the wrong way? why are you leaning against that car? why can't you take a better selfie? why are you making out with that girl who looks like your sister? etc...)  If the answer is "no", then...
- Do you look like you can buy me a steak dinner?  If the answer is "yes", then...
- Do we have friends in common?  If the answer is "yes" and said friend isn't a complete jerk face, then sure, I'll bite... because the company people keep says a lot about a person (sometimes).
- Do you resemble some sort of celebrity I would like to bang?  Well, duh, if "yes", then...
- Do I like the look of your face?  If "yes"...

Congratulations!  I will be damn sure to swipe right for you (or at least intend to until my finger gets confused and swipes in the wrong direction... the sentiments were there!).  However, if we do match and you start sending me dirty messages, I will have to block you.  I like to keep it classy sometimes.

I don't always follow these rules.  Especially if there is man cross-over from my online dating site of choice and this wonderful little app.  But, Tinder allows us to be the assholes we always wanted to be.

True love isn't blind, guys, it's staring right back at us, shirtless and grinning, waiting to swiped right... into your heart.

Snow-pocalypse... Part 27

You would think, as a Canadian and stuff, that I would be accustomed to large gusts of snow blowing in my face.  But no.  It never gets easier.  And I never seem to learn that proper footwear makes a hell of a difference.

You see, I left my more appropriate footwear back in Canada because, as I told my mother before I left, New York barely gets snow.  Hah.  So there I was, slipping and sliding five blocks to the post office and Starbucks in a pair of Frye boots... probably the sturdiest, most winter resistant boots I currently possess.

Waiting to cross the street, I hear a woman next to me say, "Thank you for walking in front of me.  You helped me see all of the slippery spots."  You're welcome, stranger... because you would have definitely have benefited by me falling on my ass.  Your ass would have been saved.  My ass would have been bruised and soggy.  Again, I'm happy I could unintentionally help you out, at the cost of my own (potential) humiliation and pain.

Asses aside, my sexy sleeping-bag coat and knit pom-pom hat did not cover enough territory on my tender body.  Glasses covered, legs covered, bangs covered.  The snow had won.  The snow had sunken my spirits and turned what could have been a mere half-hour outing into something wayyyyy longer. 

Thankfully, my ass and my coffee made it back home unharmed.  And then the world never saw this ginger again...  At least, until Thursday at work, where warmth and happiness are found in blow-dryers and french-bulldogs named Pancake.

God Help The Girl...

This song has been rattling around in my brain for the past couple of weeks... It never ceases to make me smile, as I feel we can all relate to it in one way or another...

The rest of the band's stuff is absolutely gorgeous.  I highly recommend checking it out.

God Help The Girl by God Help The Girl (Stuart Murdoch's, of Belle & Sebastian, side project)

"There is no way I'm looking for a boyfriend
There is no way I'm looking for a scene
I need to save some dough
I'm a working girl, you know
I'll fend attention off I keep to myself

I love my room, I'm getting used to sleeping
Some nights I really like to lie awake
I hear the midnight birds
The message in their words
The dawn will touch me in a way a boy could never touch
Their promise never meant so much to me

You have been warned, I'm warned to be contrary
Backward at school, I wrote from right to left
Teacher never cared for me
Preacher said a prayer for me
God help the girl, she needs all the help she can get

I sit for hours just waiting for his phone call
I'll leave the chocolate hidden in the fridge
I'll play his messages
Analyze his intonation
Please stop me there, I'm even boring myself

I think of him when I'm doing the dishes
I think of him while looking in the sink
This ain't no play on words
My love for him is absurd
If he gave me a sign I'd think about it for a week
I'd build it up and then I'd turn him down

You have been warned, I'm warned to be contrary
Backward at school, I wrote from right to left
Teacher never cared for me
Preacher said a prayer for me
God help the girl, she needs all the help she can get"

Here's a link to the song itself:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAZOmYUh6wY

Enjoy and Happy Sunday!

Got 99 resolutions, but I won't fulfill one...

Hello 2014. I know you expect me to lose weight, find inner peace and shop less, but, like, shut the fuck up.

I've realized that making a resolution, or five, is almost as silly as joining the gym in January. I can barely keep personal life goals in the middle of the year... how am I supposed to keep them at the beginning?

I know. I need to turn a new leaf and better myself. And I want to. So bad. I just think setting yourself up for disappointment for 12 months straight won't do any wonders to your sanity.  And as someone with limited sanity to begin with, I would prefer to preserve it as long as I can.

Ugh, I know. I'm the worst. I'm sure that anyone who is reading this is thinking of me as a fat slob with commitment issues (half true) but I know(ish) how I function now and I know that I don't do well when I bite off more than I can chew.  If anything, 2013 was a long, dreary lesson in realizing that. I hate making promises I can't keep, even to myself. I like simple, achievable goals. So, this will not be the year of the Resolution, but the year of the Occasional Goal.

Here is a list of Occasional Goals I will try, but not pressure myself, to achieve:
- Finish thesis - This needs to be done. It's not so much a goal as a necessity.
- Make resumé beautiful so employers will love me - This also needs to be done. Or else I will be sad and broke.  Employers do not take baked goods as bribes.
- Find job with beautiful resumé - See above.
- Stop buying shoes (and other things)- I have no space for anything right now. Space is a surprisingly good way to limit purchases of all kinds.
- Do groceries more often - GrubHub is getting to know me too well. It has an intimate relationship with my debit card that needs to be stopped.
- Occasionally go to the gym - Self-explanatory. Once a month is good enough for me.

These are a few Goals I can think of right now.  More will be added, or some will be taken away.  Long-term though, I want to be happier and less crazy. But this involves a whole lot of self-improvement that comes from the baby-steps above. I might make a timeline for myself, I might not, but, ultimately, I don't want to pressure myself. Nothing good comes from pressure except stress and mass food consumption.

So, here I am. Looking 2014 square in the eye. I don't know what this year will bring and, quite frankly, I don't care. As long as I can look back and say to myself, "Good job. You did things."

I don't want to reflect on the next year with what I didn't do because, honestly, I'm so over feeling like a fat slob with commitment issues.

A Letter

Dear Self,

What are you doing?

You need to take a deep breath, step back and give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror.

Sure, it seems that your heart has been used as a punching bag by seemingly emotionally unavailable man-boys, but don't sit there and take it.  Wallowing over things that would never have been with a bottle of whiskey won't solve anything.  Passive aggressively emoting through self-depricating humour won't solve anything either.

You want your heart to harden like you always say?  Don't give any fucks.  Don't let anyone make you feel less than stellar.  Don't let anyone make you question your sense of worth.

Yes, this year has actually been awful and rock-bottom hurts like a bitch.  But isn't that incentive enough to make the most of your next year?  Forget those eyes that refused to return "I love you" and forget those words that cut like a knife.  Erase the broken promises, the drunken confessions and the failed "what ifs".  You are able to start fresh.

Stop focusing on what's temporary and begin to embrace what's permanent.  You are what's permanent, even if you don't see it right now.  Your family and your friends who have loved and supported you through the worst of times are permanent.  Everything else is just white noise, a distraction from what really matters.  And girl, you've been letting it distract you for way too long.

It's time to let go and turn to a new page.  In fact, go buy a new fucking notebook.  Your old one is only stained with ink, negativity and bad feelings.  It's good to reflect occasionally, but don't get dragged down that rabbit hole of misery.

It's a new year and a new adventure.  You can breathe now.  You can feel again.

You are free.

Sincerely,
The part of you that is still, surprisingly, optimistic

Why I can't function properly anymore... (or, Life would be easier if I didn't have feelings)

I am in limbo, at a crossroads, whatever...

And I don't like it.

I'll be wrapping up my MA shortly and, as I'm sure anyone who knows me has realized, I have no fucking clue what's coming next.

I have ideas, swimming around my brain, and the freedom to do as I please, but I still can't fight the feeling that I am, possibly, fucked (and not in a good way).  This sounds melodramatic and I know I have the support of family and friends... I just can't seem to accept it.  Even if I have a safe place at home with my parents while I sort things out, there are too many "X" factors, too many unknowns, to breathe easier.  I like knowing things, I like having a game plan.  I mean, isn't this what threw me off the first time?

The thing is, everyone assures me that it will all work out and that's nice, because what else are you supposed to say to someone who is on the verge of a panic attack?  But, what if it doesn't?  Suppose I'm not actually as qualified as I think I am?  Suppose I didn't branch out enough when I should have?  Suppose I'm just not that good enough and, along with everyone else, I have been kidding myself into thinking otherwise?

Unfortunately, I wear my emotions on my sleeve and I've become way too introspective for my own good.  So, I spend my days with a clenched fist, worried eyes and a brain racing with "what ifs" and self-doubt.  I want to turn it off so badly and focus on my immediate tasks and interactions, but I can't.  The future is looming and no amount of therapy or alcohol can keep it at bay.

I have a thesis to finish, looming future... come back in two weeks!

I also hate repressing my feelings.  When you're potentially leaving in less than a month, feelings are the last thing you need.  You don't want to be selfish and give expectation to something that has a definite expiry date, but you also end up driving yourself crazy by keeping everything bottled up.  It just sucks because I like feelings, especially good ones.

So, here I am.  Sitting in my tin can of a room, listening to "calming" (i.e. sad) music and silently freaking out.  I want to shut my brain off for a bit and focus on my important tasks, I want someone to respond to my cries for employment and I want to know what is happening a month from now, but no one said life was fair.  I'm looking for an "easy" button to push when I should be building it, and I'll be lucky if someone gives me the right wires or an instruction manual.

I guess the only thing I can do right now is take a deep breath and keep going, right?

Why I Should Be 500 lbs... (or, Chubby Girls Can Find Boyfriends Too)

I thought about writing another dating post, but then I realized that it was time to write about something I really enjoy: food.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I really like food.

I will eat anything, anywhere, at any time.

In fact, I like food so much that I just bought a Kate Spade donut sweatshirt (but it's pretty freakin' adorable, so that too).

But, it's funny, even though I sometimes (all the time) complain about my body, I refuse to diet.  I'm not sure why, but maybe the thought of taking something away that I enjoy is, like, the worst idea ever.  Even though I can't eat as much as I used to (because my body will burst into millions of tiny pieces), I still require a meal that has, at least, two courses and, let me just say, a salad will never satisfy me the way a burger can.

I like to think this borderline obsession with food has become a quirk of mine.  Sitting at a Ukrainian restaurant with my new Polish friend, he commented how cute it was that I loved food so much.  Of course, this was after I mentioned that I would eat an entire pie if given the chance.  Are girls really that afraid to talk about food these days in a gluttonous manner?  And, in a culture filled with weight anxiety, has this actually become a treat to the ears?

And I'm not talking about food fetishes (I like food, but not thaaaaat much).  In a strange way, food, for me, is a real bonding experience.  It's the one subject I can openly talk about and only sound halfway ridiculous while doing it.  You can share it, make it together, eat it together, etc...  I just really enjoy the social aspect of it (unless I lock myself in my room and eat Chinese all by myself while watching "Say Anything").  And everyone understands it, unlike when I go off on fashion things. 

I'm also not a food snob.  I'll eat anything from a gourmet meal to street meat, no fucks given.  But I also have issues savouring things that are supposed to be savoured.  I eat quickly, mostly because I'm super hungry and/or excited.  I label this as an "issue" because, at a dinner party, who are you supposed to talk to when you've finished and everyone else is still eating?  You realize not just that you're more than a fast eater, you are also unskilled at understanding people with food stuffed in their mouths.  Subtitles extra.

I don't think a good meal is a waste of money (even if it does end up in the porcelain palace a couple of hours later).  In fact, there is nothing better than a good meal, in my opinion (besides shoes and maaaaaybe sex).  If done right, a good meal can leave you in a wonderful, euphoric state (granted, this depends on what sort of pants you wear).  A good meal is something you talk about for years to come, to anyone who will listen.

I've started playing a game with people, asking what they would order for their last meal before they're executed and, it's funny, so many people, including myself, go back to a homemade dish.  Food creates nostalgia, it has the power to bring people together and, in some cases, it even comforts.

While this might not be "the food for thought" you were looking for, I can tell you this...

I love food and I ain't giving no fucks if you try to tell me otherwise.