So This is Still Happening

messagesAnd we’re back for another collection of online-dating messages where I think to myself the following thoughts:

“Oh God.”


“Do you know how to proofread?”

“It’s “your” not “you’re””

“I will be alone forever so I better go buy some cats.”

(PS, these messages are copied verbatim from my phone, there are many more where these came from, and I don’t like cats so alternative ideas are welcome.)

  • how are u. see my profile if u want to help the poor peoples
  • So apart from being splendidly cute-you have my attention and curiosity of the highest order. So the key question is….What is youre favorite, cuisine-starter, main, and dessert?????
  • …..We have 81% match. Is that destiny? Want to meet? So what’s up?
  • How’s it going? What motivates you the most….your work or an ice cream after work?


What’s My Age: However old I was when I discovered the mood-altering properties of ice cream…so….every day OF MY LIFE?! 

Eaves Droppers

156-01I sit in a communal office area, and while I do have my own desk, most of the time, I’m sitting at a row of open computers with my back facing the comings and goings of coworkers and other random people who walk past me. This means that what’s on my computer screen is usually on full display. ……Get your head out of the gutter, people! It’s nothing salacious, but considering that in a 10-hour day, I spend approximately 45 minutes of it doing actual work, I have lots of downtime for online shopping, job-hunting, trip planning, real estate browsing, recipe hunting, boot shopping, haircut researching, general Wikipedia queries etc etc ETCETERA.

Regardless of the fact that my computer is in a public place, that doesn’t mean the information on it is for public comment. But at least once a day, someone stops behind me to read over my shoulder and make a comment about what I’m looking at. “Oh, I wouldn’t go to Paris in the summer, it’s too hot.” “Looks like someone got paid today, huh?” “ARE YOU MOVING?” are all things that people have asked me, before they’re then met with my dead eyes and fast reflexes to snap back to the NYTimes homepage. Um, MIND YOUR OWN BEESWAX.

I get that people have an insatiable curiosity, and I myself am a naturally nosy person. (See here, herehere…). But when I laugh at something I’m reading and suddenly someone is right behind me asking what’s so funny, I suddenly long for my first job, where I also worked at a communal table but was at least given a computer privacy screen! (Side note–Who would have thought that six years after the fact, I would finally find something positive about that work situation?!) I guess I should just accept that the people I work with ascribe to the tenant that “what’s yours is mine….” to comment on.

What’s My Age: 8, in elementary school, when you would use your entire body to cover your paper so no one would see your answers. 

Dating Haiku

There’s nothing poetic about dating–it’s a little much to ask when most of the time, I’m relieved to have someone text me back an “And u?” when I ask how their day was. But in an attempt to bring some poetic contemplation to the hellscape that is modern dating, I have decided to express my thoughts through the art form of haiku.

159-01Don’t Ghost 

Don’t ghost, do not ghost

Don’t ghost, don’t ghost, do not ghost

Do not ghost, don’t ghost


Text Pause 

Looking forward to

Overanalyzing those

Little bubble dots


Hey, what’s up? Not much.

And you? Not much. This was a

good talk, should we date?


Is it cool if I

Feel bad about this for like

the next month or so?

What’s My Age: 18, in my first college creative writing class, EXPRESSING MYSELF. 

10 Years Out

158-01.pngSo the other day I got a Facebook invitation to my ten year high school reunion. ……..Yeeaahhhhh. Ummm, HOW HAS IT BEEN 10 YEARS? How is that passage of time even possible? When I was in high school, being 28 seemed so far off, and all I wanted was to be out of high school and onto college and into “adulthood” as soon as possible. I figured my college experience would be similar to “Saved By the Bell: The College Years,” and would lead to a long-term relationship, a perfect job, and an awesome apartment. Well…1 outta 3 ain’t bad! (I have the apartment, if anyone is wondering.)

I can’t say I really loved high school, mostly because I was always looking forward to “the next thing.” (An annoying character trait I continue to have to this day…) But everyone is like that in high school–you quickly promote yourself from naive freshman to “so over this whole thing.” My entire senior year was spent towing the line between finding everything I did a “memorable high school moment” and counting the days to when I could leave and never see these people again.

Of course, I have many great memories too–mostly involving band and late night “adventures” to the West Milford Diner, and on special occasions, Applebees. Right before we graduated, my friends and I threw a formal birthday party for someone in our gang and descended on the town Dairy Queen in formal wear. There was the Friday night where my two favorite teachers (both band directors…) took me into the city to see a jazz show at Birdland. And of course, all four years were sound-tracked by the emo strains of Dashboard Confessional, which added a theatrical element to the whole shebang. High school is a deep emotional time people!

And as for that reunion? So far, I’m not sure I’m going to go. Some things are better left in the past! (Especially the cargo flare pants, the Old Navy tank top I used to wear as a vest over turtlenecks, and the pair of bowling shoes I wore almost everyday. Visualize that and let me know if you’d want to be showing your face 10 years out!)

What’s My Age: Inexplicably, ten years older than I was in high school.