The Problem With Tinder


I’ve said it before, I’m a fan of Tinder – because where else are bookish girls with a desire to go to bed early and make friends with cats going to find men? But, BUT there’s a problem (well, many) with internet/Tinder dating: It requires you to invest a large amount of time into people you don’t even know, let alone know if you like.


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Food Groups Of The 20-something

Trippy Cat Eating Pizza

Part of being an independent, 20-something year old adult is learning to feed yourself and not end up some kind of severe nutritional deficiency/disorder/disease/die. Admittedly, when I first moved out of home, I depended a lot of frozen vegetables and couscous. Cause like, EASY. But I’ve realised that perhaps to avoid getting scurvy (THIS IS A THING YOU CAN GET ON LAND), I had to improve my game.


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The Cardinal Rules Of Internet Dating


Recently. I was at a friend’s birthday party and one of her BF’s friends was like, ‘You! Is this awkward but I think I recognise you from OkCupid. Maybe it was Tinder. You really shouldn’t use the same picture for everything.’ Turns out I broke one of the Cardinal Rules of Internet Dating.

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Popcorn Dinners And Other Adulting Tips


I wrote my first post about the things I’ve learnt about life since moving out home about a year after I left my parents place (so many skills, guys, I feel like TV lied to me about how to an adult – but it’s ok, I’m making up for it one popcorn dinner at a time). This is my fifth year out of my parents’ snug little nest and the fourth in my shoebox apartment. And man, the things you figure out. The things no one told you. The things my mom probably did but I totally wasn’t listening.

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Confession: I Hate Shopping


I’m pretty sure this means I’m not a Real Girl (am I Pinocchio then? Will a love of clothes and shopping and mall make me A REAL GIRL AT LONG LAST?). I do everything in my power to avoid having to go into a mall and try on clothes. Actually, I even hate online shopping. Recently I needed to buy a pair of black heels (so I can like I Know What I Am Doing in meetings). It was awful. It was a form of suffering that no one should have to endure. I went to Canal Walk. I went to two whole stores and then settled on the first pair that fit and went to the food court and stuffed my face with shwarma. I mean, THE SUFFERING.

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Getting Ready For A First Date


I suck at dating. I hate dating. I’ve sent several voice notes to the Long Distance Bestie about my hatred of dates – especially first dates. In fact I’m so bad at dating that it once took me six months to realise that the picnic my “friend” took me on, was, in fact, a date. No wonder he got annoyed me with me when I was vague about plans after that. He thought I was blowing him off. I was just being a flakey friend.

With joining Tinder (and OkCupid, yes, I’ve gone back to them) I’ve had a few first dates recently. Or are they dates when you are just meeting someone from a site and you’re trying to ascertain if they are, indeed, not serial killers (I’ve been watching too much of The Fall) or organ harvesters? Or they meet ups? Coffee hangouts? Let’s-not-die-tonight-face-time-in-real-time?

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