I don’t drink anything except the trendy water that comes in cartons.
I don’t even drink the trendy water that comes in cartons.
I only drink things that resemble blood or tears.
Daddy, is that you?
When Someone Asks for Your Number
I don’t give my number out.
I don’t have a cell phone.
If you give me yours on this napkin, I totally won’t throw it away as soon as you turn around!
If it’s meant to be, we’ll be able to guess each other’s numbers.
Are you referencing the Anna Faris movie? Because I haven’t seen it yet.
I only give my number to guys with lightning bolt-shaped scars on their foreheads.
Daddy, is that you?
When Someone Asks You on a Date
I’m busy that day.
I’m busy every day.
I think I’m allergic to you.
Unless you own a helicopter, I’m not interested.
I only date former members of One Direction.
I’m doing this thing called the Duggar Detox where I don’t date until I’m married.
Daddy, is that you?
And if all else fails, and your milkshakes keep on bringing the bitches to the yard, and you still can’t go a day without being showered with marriage proposals and promises of grandkids and retirement funds? Give me their number. I’ll slide into their DMs.
how to talk to your crush
Sometimes when I’m driving alone in my car, I pretend like I’m on Ellen and I answer interview questions out loud to myself, saying things like, “Oh, Ellen, that’s hilarious! Thank you for asking! Yes, winning my Oscar was such a surprise! That music really does creep up on you!” I am not kidding. You know what’s not nearly as embarrassing? Talking to your crush. If I can admit to every person reading this book that I’m possibly insane, then you can go ahead and say “grool” to your Aaron Samuels. (Just don’t vomit on him.)
I have never been shy when it comes to the boys that I like. By no means am I trying to humblebrag or anything like that. In all actuality, I could probably stand to be a bit more demure in regard to crushing. I really embrace the word “crush” in all its senses. Take Brad, my first instance of unrequited love, as an example. I fondly referred to him by the pet name I gave him: “Pip-squeak.” Which now, as an adult, has me wondering if I was taking a not-so-subtle jab at his then-fragile birdlike physique. We’ll never know. We were in the same kindergarten class, and he also happened to be my neighbor. This meant we carpooled to school, where we spent six hours a day knitting and singing and talking about our feelings and all the other bullshit you do in alternative-learning kindergarten. Then, once that was done, we carpooled to gymnastics, where he excelled on the parallel bars and I excelled at convincing my coach to give me an extra blue Otter-Pop. From there we were shuttled back home, where we (finally) parted ways. This kid couldn’t fucking escape me no matter how hard he tried. I had about ten pounds on him (which at five years old means, like, I basically looked like I had eaten two Brads for my recess snack). My sole form of exercise was chasing this poor boy around and begging him to kiss me. I was beyond boy crazy; I was a savage. (Again, Brad, if you happen to be reading this, I profusely apologize for my actions.) Thankfully, I’ve toned down my technique over the years.
Despite that I’ve always had a soft spot for romantic comedies, I’ve never been able to wrap my head around one consistent plotline: the female protagonist wishing she knew what her Patrick Dempsey was thinking. I’ve always stood behind the idea that the quickest way to get the most accurate answer is to ask the question. Now, I’m not saying go up to Harry Styles and be, like, “Can I have your babies?” But if you’ve been seeing someone for the past three months and you’re sitting at home with your roommates, stalking their tagged pictures on Instagram to see why they’ve been too busy to text you back, all the while wondering if they saw the #tbt pic of you on spring break in a bikini, save yourself the headache and just ask them what’s up. I hate that, in this day and age, half of what dating has become is just a thing to gossip about between friends. We’ve immersed ourselves into creating these confusing and vague dramatic relationship situations that we don’t try to fix, just so we can discuss them over red wine during The Bachelor commercials. My friends and I have wasted hours of our lives obsessing over what the person we like is thinking or feeling when in fact all of this could have been avoided by just asking the damn question! I think a part of us is hesitant in those situations, not just because being honest and vulnerable is completely terrifying, but because sometimes we’re scared of the answer. And when we’re scared and unsure of that answer, sometimes it feels better to live in denial and blissful ignorance and put off that hurt until a later date. And, yeah, sometimes it’s going to suck, sometimes you’ll find out that you’ve wasted the last three months investing in someone who hasn’t factored you in at all. But you either find that out now, or you find out the hard way in three more months. If your heart is about to shatter, wouldn’t you rather walk into it with a dustpan in hand rather than be caught by surprise? Better now than later. You got better things to do. Screw the other fish in the sea (literally, if you’re down). You want to find your lobster.
* This was the age I insisted I was going to go by Meg for the rest of my life. The “-han” was just so 1993.
chapter 6 pimp yo profile
I’m fucking great at (the digital component of) dating. I can make an Oscar-worthy Tinder profile, formulate the perfect combination of cheeky yet engaging messages on Bumble, and compose a seamless response to every text that leaves the recipient completely and totally enamored. When it gets to actually going through with it and meeting someone face-to-face, I can’t help you. I’m all lead-up and zero follow-through. I’m slightly ashamed to admit it, but I treated dating apps like bored preteens treat TikTok. They were a mindless game of swiping and scrolling and tapping and instant validation. I’m aware that this is terrible. Thankfully, I am no longer on said dating apps, so we can just look at it as a fault of my past. Despite that I no longer have a need to pursue a guy via an iPhone application, I will admit that I live vicariously through my single girlfriends—not because I want to see what else is out there, or because I’m unhappy in my relationship (I don’t and I’m not); I do it because it’s still a fun game. There’s a formula to win, cheat codes, and ways to level up that nobody else is utilizing. In this digital age, it’s natural for people to go about dating like it’s a video game. We’re normalizing the use of these apps. We want to meet great people and embark on healthy and stable relationships, but because dating apps are so much about first impressions, many chance encounters and matches slip through the cracks. You could be the nicest and most normal dude, but your profile reads like a police blotter. You could be the most chill and sweetest girl, but your profile reads like Megan Fox from Jennifer’s Body. One of my favorite midweek activities is convincing my friends to relinquish control of their dormant dating apps and let me make them over. It’s like Pimp My Ride for Tinder, Extreme Makeover for Hinge, Botched for Bumble. I’m drawing a blank on any other makeover shows but I think you get the point. As much as we preach that love is blind, at the end of the day we’re scrolling through potential partners like we scroll through BuzzFeed Tasty videos. Since it’s all about first impressions, you might as well make a good one.
pictures
Let’s start with pictures. Whether we like it or not, the pictures on your profile are the first things that anybody looks at. You can try to dispute that and say that your eyes naturally instead go to the 8-point Arial font in the lower corner, but that’s just bullshit. I accidentally discovered my formula for profile pictures through my own judgment of the guys I was swiping through. I started to take note at what point I lost interest and swiped left and what combination of pictures kept me scrolling for more until my interest sparked a right swipe and (hopefully) a match. After I realiz
ed what I liked to see in a guy’s profile, I started to supplement my profile with the same things. It was only when making over my friend’s Tinder that I realized I had developed some sort of system, which I now refer to as the Four F’s (trademark pending). They are as follows, in this exact order:
The Four F’s
1. Face
2. F(ph)ysique
3. Friends
4. Fun
1. Face. This may sound obvious to you, but indulge me for a minute. This is your first profile picture, the first of the first impressions, and it needs to speak volumes. This picture is in focus, from the waist/shoulders up, and it is the best goddamn picture you have ever taken. If the last great picture you have of yourself is more than two years old and you hadn’t discovered the importance of eyebrows yet, enlist a friend to snap some pics of you candid-laughing by a hedge somewhere.
2. F(ph)ysique. I’m a tall girl. I clock in at about five-eight, and as totally superficial as it is, I never really date guys shorter than me. So when I scroll through seven profile pictures and don’t discover that some guy is five-two until I stalk his tagged pictures on Instagram, I’m exasperated. At the same time I’m not trying to hide the fact that I’m tall. My excessive vertical trajectory is as much out of my control as the next person’s. Now, I’m aware that this is coming off as incredibly shallow, and at the end of the day I genuinely do believe that love is blind. We fall in love with people because of a million little things. In the grand scheme of it all, your height doesn’t really play a part. But what definitely does factor in is your candid self-awareness and honesty, even on these dating apps. As we scroll through hundreds of Facetuned pictures, cropping and tweaking and trimming, there is something so attractive and enticing about owning who you are. They’ve already seen your first picture of your face and they’re scrolling to see more, so show more! Not like “birthday suit” more (unless you actually wore a three-piece suit to celebrate your latest year). It can be a picture of you from a family vacation to Italy, or a heavily stylized #OOTD picture from the days you attempted to be a fashion blogger. Whatever your body type is, just own it. If some ass-lord swipes left because your thighs touch, is he really the dude you want to father your children? Fuck no. Every single part of you will attract somebody who is attracted to every single part of you.
3. Friends. We all have at least one friend, family member, or a Disneyland employee who is obligated to accept our request for a picture together. Now is their shining moment. If you’re anything like my friends, you’re probably heavily protesting that your first two pictures are solo shots. (Did I make that clear enough before?) In that case, I would probably tell my friends to shut up, but since you and I are not close friends (yet), I’ll explain my reasoning to you. Whoever you’re trying to attract on a dating app, you’re trying to attract them to you, not to your friends. Think about how annoying it is when you’re scrolling through somebody’s picture and you’re forced to pull out your goddamn magnifying glass and your Sherlock Holmes hat to try to decipher which guy in a polo shirt is “James P.” That shit is annoying. If I can’t tell who you are within the first three seconds, I’m out. This isn’t to say that pictures with friends are a complete and total deal breaker; it’s quite the opposite, actually. While I’m not in favor of the buddy system in full force in every picture, showing that you’re (seemingly) socially adept and normal (enough) to have friendships is important. It means that (a) you’re most likely not a serial killer, (b) at least some people in this world enjoy your presence for at least as long as it took to snap the picture, and finally, (c) I have some sort of leads to show Nev if you catfish me, so I can get my revenge.
4. Fun. This is your freebie, your wild card, and your chance to stand apart. The first four pictures have been purely to captivate and establish interest; your final picture is to separate the people who swipe right on every pretty thing from the people who actually have personalities. Go fucking ham. Post a picture of you skydiving in a hot dog costume. Post a picture of you as a fat baby with your face covered in peanut butter. Post a picture of you dressed in a full Hogwarts uniform. You can use this picture to convey an interest of yours, a hobby, or just something random and fun that you’re passionate about. If your hobbies include binge-watching television with a face mask on (my soul mate), feel free to display that with a photo booth selfie, or just opt for something completely random. This is your opportunity to let your freak flag fly and poke a little fun at yourself in the process. I’ll leave you with this nugget of inspiration: when I dabbled in the world of dating apps, my final picture was a photograph of me one day post–nose job, with two black eyes and a bloody, bandaged nose, with the caption “You should see the other guy.” Fucking fire.
captions
I always joke that I’d be a great pickup artist. At any time you can scroll through my phone and see about three text message conversations I have going on with my friends and their crushes. Hate to break it to you douche-bags-of-my-gal-pals-past, but those impeccably well-crafted text messages you received that read like movie-worthy banter? Me, all me. This is the area of my life where my inability to shut up, my self-deprecating humor, and my vast backlog of pop culture references all come in handy. I have a response to everything. My library of comebacks and comments is never-ending, and this is the only sector in life that not only accepts them, but they also flourish here. I live every moment of every day like I’m starring in my own reality show. Every conversation is a stand-up performance and every moment is a movie montage. Crazy? Yes. Helpful? Yes.
Now, I may be a self-proclaimed wizard, but ultimately I am not Harry Potter. (Cries.) There are a few basic things that need to be set into place before I can start going all millionaire matchmaker Amy Dunne (pre-psycho, like the cute her from that one flashback) and every stereotypical “cool girl” from every manic pixie dream girl movie. So ask yourself these three questions, and we’ll take it from there:
1. Have you ever talked to your crush? a) Yes.
b) No.
c) Does fanfic count?
If you answered (a), amazing! Move on to question #2. If you answered (b), can you change this? If yes, move on to question #2! If not, move along. If you answered (c), no, it does not count but I would like to read it.
2. Is your crush attainable? a) Yes.
b) No.
c) I have front-row Shawn Mendes tickets.
If you answered (a), great! Move on to question #3. If you answered (b), firstly, don’t belittle yourself. The basketball star falls in love with the science geek if you’re in High School Musical. That being said, if your crush has 50 million followers on Twitter and your username is in their honor, I’d say now would be the time to explore other interests, possibly one involving face-to-face human interaction. If you answered (c), no, it does not count but I would like to join you.
3. Is it kosher? a) Yes.
b) No.
c) They’re not a hot dog.
If you answered (a), flawless! If this were American Idol, I’d be handing you a golden ticket. If you answered (b), this one is kind of a big deal. The use of the word “kosher” in this context is to mean proper, legit, or fine, not anything to do with salt curing, BTW. Let’s dive through some examples of what would be considered not kosher: your sister’s ex, Marilyn Manson, your English teacher, or any relationship you’d describe as being “complicated.” While I thoroughly enjoyed playing Romeo in my seventh-grade class’s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, I’d rather not live it. Pursuing a relationship with a person who you’re already aware might not be the best choice isn’t too promising for its future or sustainability. Sure, there are movies in which the girl falls in love with her best friend’s boyfriend, and he happens to love her, too, and they get together and live happily ever after without burning a single bridge. But that shit was scripted by a wistful NYU grad attempting to actualize her own fantasy. While all people come with baggage and all relationships come with their respective bumps, if
there are major obstacles preventing you two from being together, it’s probably not worth the uphill battle. If you answered (c), Amber D’Alessio made out with a hot dog.
If you’ve read this far, I assume that means you’ve passed the qualifying questions. Otherwise, you’re just a rebel who’s ignoring my advice and continuing on your quest to bed the latest CW heartthrob. I’d scold you, but I do admire the dedication. Now that we’ve established that the doodles you’ve made on your notebook with hyphenated last names might actually come to fruition (or that you’re just delusional), it’s time to move on to phase 1.
phase 1: make contact with the target
The first step is always the hardest one, and this is no exception. Whether you’ve been staring at the back of your crush’s head in Econ all semester or you’ve been silently pining after one of your best friends, there’s no way to take your relationship to that next level without them knowing. If you don’t talk to your crush, chances are you won’t be dating them anytime soon. Putting those feelers out isn’t just for them to begin to see you in that light. Think of it like a trial period, like a thirty-day free subscription where you test the waters and see if the feelings you’ve built up in your head stand up to the real deal. Now, don’t think you have to go from zero to one hundred in ten seconds flat. If anything, I think taking it slow is usually the way to go. (Use this motto the first time you have sex too.) In the digital age, this step could mean a multitude of things, including but not limited to: an unprompted follow-back on Instagram, sliding into DMs, a shared academic class, or a group hangout with mutual friends. Your goal of phase 1? Leave an impression. Whether that means that your name is the most recent search on their Instagram or they asked a friend about you, leave the thought of you in the back of their mind.
You're Not Special Page 9
