WEEK 3 PT. 2 // Ponytail Derek

Saturday Night: Ponytail Derek

Welcome to part 2 of this week's datescapades, credit to my girl Kayla for that new beautiful word. I honestly did not think I would learn anything from this experience. I only wanted to vent my dating frustrations and let others get a kick out of my pain. But with each new date I am learning way more about myself than I thought I would. Woah, what? Dating actually has benefits other than to torture us good, single people? I don't think Tinder is for everyone. But I highly recommend putting yourself out there, in any way/shape/form possible. If anything, you'll have some good stories to tell and will have something to do on weekends other than watch movies with your cat (Lily loves anything starring Ryan Gosling.)

Ponytail Derek is strictly describing his general aesthetic and not his personality. For those who don't know, this is a Perks of Being a Wallflower reference and the Ponytail Derek in that movie is a big jerk. This guy is not like that. He wasn't even wearing a ponytail when I met him. Lol. I will explain.

By Saturday night I had already been on 2 dates and was pretty pooped. He didn't get off work til 9, which my grandma schedule is not used to yet. I debate canceling, but for my adoring fans and personal self-loathing, I meet up for our pre-planned date. The first thing I noticed about Ponytail Derek was how tall he was. He wasn't one of those guys who put his height in his Tinder profile so I had zero expectations and was pleasantly surprised. For all the meninists (why are you here) thinking I am soooooo shallow for even considering height and wah wah wah, please have a seat. There is a proportional amount of men that prefer women to be shorter as there are women who prefer men be taller. The others who don't care still find love and seem very happy. That is super duper cool. But I LIKE TALL GUYS. Whoopty-freaking-doo.

#sorrynotsorry

The second thing I notice is his long, luxurious hair. I am tempted to ask what shampoo he uses but I'll save that for another time. This is also the first guy that is just as chatty as I am, so our conversation is flowing very smoothly. I don't even remember what we talked about at first, but I know there weren't any awkward silences. We were eating at Sonic, and I had a bomb milkshake, so I was very happy. The Sonic in Provo is near this walkway that curves around the river that he suggests we explore. It isn't well lit, but we walk surprisingly far with someone of my low stamina and disinterest in physical activities. My constant talking distracts me from the darkness and possible dead bodies in the water. We pass under a bridge where homeless people definitely sleep and joke about moving in. Maybe this is where Prince lives? I look around, but with no sign of him I continue our night stroll.

After our walk we decide to drive over to a park (AGAIN, he could have murdered me by the river and didn't, so my chances are pretty good). This is where I find out he has to have his hair in a ponytail for work, and the name Ponytail Derek just stuck in my brain. This is also where our deep conversations begin. By deep, I mean we talk about philosophy and our beliefs instead of what our favorite flavor toothpaste is. I find out he isn't an active LDS member but he says he still believes in the core values. I can work with this. By that I mean I am not disregarding him off the bat because of his status in the church. The dating I'm doing right now isn't supposed to be super serious anyways... Because I am a carefree spirit who overanalyzes nothing. :D

Anyways.

So we are sitting on the park bench and he has his arm around me and I feel like we could be in just about any indie movie. He half-joked about jumping the gate into the nearby waterpark so it fits. Play the soundtrack from 500 Days of Summer and BOOM, a Sundance Film Festival hit.

Since I have obviously already stalked him on the internet, I knew he was a musician. He mentions he has a show coming up and I jump at the opportunity to be a groupie. There's something about boys in bands that I am insanely attracted to... which is why I am single and on Tinder! I tell him I want to watch him play and he seems totally fine with it. Buuuuut you know how this works, that experience will be discussed next week. Ugh.

I get home around 1:30, which is extremely late for me even on a weekend. But he texts me asking if I made it home safe, which is sups adorbs. 5 stars. Okay, does anyone else wish we could rate Tinder dates and leave reviews? It'd be so much easier.

"Asked me to marry him first date. 2 stars."
"Opened my door for me, but his car smelled like feet. 1 star."
"Called me the wrong name and said it was because I looked like his ex. 0 stars."

Who knows someone that works for Tinder? I need to speak to them immediately.

You guys are in for a treat because I'll be posting Part 2 of my Art of Tindering series on Saturday! Part 1 was a pretty big hit. I noticed the more mean my posts are the more popular they are... so... ya'll asked for it. Here comes the sass.

WEEK 3 // The Bachelor

WHAT UP SMITCHES.

Can I just say this blog already has over 1200 page views... whaaaa?? I know in internet terms this isn't a ton. But I blogged for years and years and had 100 on a good month, so this blows my mind. You guys have great taste in online garbage reading. Congrats.

This week was bananas... I had 3 dates lined up which is a lot when you have a full time job and a kitten that needs all of the love & attention. Even though it was my fault entirely, I felt overwhelmed and a bit Tindered out. But the second I decide I need a break, the universe was like HA NOPE and I was asked on 2 real live non-Tinder dates. Those will be in next week's episode. This week, however, will be broken into 2 parts with 3 different Tinder dates. I hate myself.

Wednesday Night: The Bachelor

I'm dubbing this first date Bachelor because he sort of looks like a previous contestant and also watches the show like I do. This is a huge plus since I will most likely be forcing all future significant others to watch it with me anyways. Bachelor invites me to go long boarding, so the first thing I do is look in my closet for anything appropriate. All I have is sweaters and lots of floral prints. Um. Okay, so my wardrobe isn't what you would call sporty. I throw on a plain v-neck, skinny jeans, and my fake keds from Walmart. Yes. I am ready To Sport™.

The last time I went long boarding I ate shiz and scratched up my hands and legs pretty bad. So doing this as a first date is probably a terrible idea. But terrible ideas = fantastic stories, so I'm pumped! He picks a super duper easy trail, but the down side was my long board was faster than his skate board. I was not very graceful at slowing down and ended up just preventing myself from running into things. I didn't crash though!!!!! I gave myself so many mental self-fives for that. And those moments where I was just cruising and enjoying the sunset were PRIME. Is this how it's supposed to be? Not careening out of control and embracing death at any moment? Huh. Interesting. We've been talking most of the time, er, I've been talking most of the time. But that's literally any date I go on. Either he is just a more mellow human than I am or I need to shut up. I'm just trying to find something we have in common besides watching the same reality show. Which, to be honest, I could live with.

Luckily he still wants to hang out and on my suggestion we go to Taco Bell to get drinks (only the classiest for us Tinder folk.) Then we park at what he calls his "ghetto lookout" which is a dirt lot that overlooks the highway outside of Lindon. Again, we just talked the entire time, no hanky panky. Would I even tell you if there was? That is questionable, because my grandpa and other precious family members read this and I would love to spare them those details... But nothing happened. Pinky swear.

So it is at this point I find out that Bachelor and I are polar opposite in almost every way. All of my favorites are on his "just okay" list, and he admittedly has no favorites except for Tom Brady. He even went as far as to say he didn't really love anything. I couldn't help but have the giggles when I tried to challenge this. Eventually I blurt out, "Do you even love your family??" And he makes a disgusted face and goes, "No!" Which he was obviously joking about, right guys? No one just doesn't love anything... ?

In the true nature of being a woman, I immediately wanted to fix him. Maybe I could make him see the light, and like Flynn and Rapunzel we will sing about our feelings on a boat. And then I discover I am a long lost princess. That sounded great. But because I am 55 years old, I have already been through the rigamaroll of trying to change people. SPOILER ALERT: You will fail. At first the other person will play along and pretend like all your effort is not going to waste, and you feel like you are seeing progress. But unless they are doing it 1000% for themselves, and not even 1% to please you, it is not going to stick. All it means is what you see is what you get. No amount of singing is going to grow this guy's heart 3 times it's size. Something I quickly learn to accept after the following night.

The next night Bachelor texts me and asks what I'm up to. I told him I was watching a movie and invited him over. I warned him it was one of my favorite rom coms, Life as We Know It (Josh Duhmel, yum) and he may not like it. He insisted he come anyway, so whatever. I'm pretty much Yes Man at this point except way sadder. Not even 20 minutes into the movie, he is complaining. At first it starts by him blatantly not paying attention and asking what's going on. Then it turns into "This movie is sooooo looooong" and "Is it over yet?" because there is nothing cuter than a toddler who hasn't had his nap yet. I consider naming him Giant Man Baby for the purposes of this blog, but I let him live. Even though some minor cuddling is happening, there are no sparks flying and his whining is not helping. After he falls asleep several times, I finally get him out of my apartment. If there had been a rose at the end of the date, I would've had to have the obligatory "You are amazing and a special little snowflake but I can't give you this rose" talk before sending him packing.

Friday Night: The Prince pt. 2

For those who are catching up, please read about the Prince in my last post here. I felt like we only had a short time together at the park, and I am determined to find his place of employment. I can't find him on Facebook anywhere, and so I might as well find out information the old fashioned way.

Prince picks me up and we go bowling. I bowl approximately once a year with my family at Thanksgiving, but avoid it the other 364 days of the year. And I am terrible. Being a competitive person this makes me a little aggy, as they say in Essex. But I already foretell him all of this and am determined to just have fun anyways. He claims he is also bad, but that is a lie. Our final scores are a whopping 119 and 51. I'll let you guess whose was whose.

We then go to Arby's (my suggestion, one of many) where I proceed to make the following faces:

That last one is there so you guys remember that I'm cute.

Yes, those were taken unbeknownst to me at the time. He took my phone and I thought he was trying to guess the pass code. It wasn't until the next day that I noticed the 110 pictures taken in those few minutes. I actually think this is hilarious, because I make the stupidest faces when I'm talking. It's good to be humbled. Every celebrity needs to see an ugly picture of themselves once in a while. I think it would make the world a better place. (I'm not comparing my looks to that of a celeb, most of the time I am "acceptable to leave the house" at best.)

After my secret photoshoot, we're driving away and Prince asks what I want to do, which concerns me a little. When a guy seems to not have a solid plan it makes me feel like he doesn't care about this date very much. Or he's not imaginative. Or he's a pushover. And I am what you would call a "strong" personality. I need someone to match me... be an equal partner and all that. To quote Aristotle, "Who wears the pants? Well, preferably neither of us will be wearing pants." Too much? Too much. Sorry Grandpa.

Since he hasn't been able to contain his jealous rage that I have a cat, I ask if he would like to meet her. I joke that it was like meeting my child and not a privilege given to many, but it's very telling how a guy acts around your pet. Bachelor, for example, ignored her presence entirely and only tried to get her attention when he wasn't sleeping. Prince, however, was very sweet with Lily. It always warms my icy cold heart to see a man have a tender spot for animals. It's a little bit of a preview into how they will be with children. Yes, I just said that. Every girl is thinking this all the time always, it's fine. At least the ones in Utah. Okay, maybe it's just me.

But Prince and I just didn't have that ever so fleeting chemistry, and after 2 dates I don't think it's unfair for me to call it a day. I think very highly of him, and he was nothing but a gentleman. Except... I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE WORKS. This bothers me a lot. If any of you have any idea who this guy is, please call our hotline at 1-888-HELPMEEEEE.

Check back Thursday for one of my favorite dates, Ponytail Derek. :)

The Art of Tindering PT. 1

I consider myself a Tinder queen at this point. I may not know what I'm doing in real life, but I have this app down to an art form. So gather around, my future Tinder prodigies. In this series I will teach you everything you need to know so you will have time to rethink your life choices before it's too late.

PART 1: Swiping Left

It takes thick skin to be on Tinder. You are rapidly both rejecting and being rejected. And no thanks to the unnecessary "Super Like," we now have added pressure to not say no. Although women have been trained for centuries to be grateful a man is even considering extending his hand to her, a person has every right to be uninterested in someone for whatever reason. No matter how dumb or shallow it might be, you have to accept that sometimes someone is not going to like you because of your left eyebrow or your stupid outfit. Do not download this app if you are going to take it personally. In order to get the most out of it, you need to be objective and remember there is another match around the corner. Every time I think I have been through every eligible bachelor within a 50 mile radius, somehow the app finds more for me. This is the beauty of it. It's like an ever-flowing stream of men and disappointment.

Besides the looks category, I don't swipe left unless I have a good reason. And I have so many good reasons that you're probably going to wonder how I am getting any dates at all. *Cue the Miracles Happen song from Princess Diaries.* I have compiled these completely legit reasons for you into a list of 10 men that I try to avoid on Tinder, and you probably should too. Here they are, in no particular order of cringiness:

10 HECK NAWS

DTF
Although you can never tell for sure if a guy really just wants some action, some will list this in their bio which is very convenient. I am not judging them, I'm simply not looking for that and there's no point in being a tease. There's plenty of other thirsty women who will let you buy them a burger in exchange for access to their bodies, and you'll both be very happy together.

Whiny Piss Lords
When it seems like the guy has been burned on Tinder before and they want everyone to know about it, I swipe left so hard my thumbprint almost burns off. This includes guys that say, "Don't swipe right if you don't plan on talking." They need remove the stick from their bum and learn they are not entitled to a response even if they match. It just screams, "fragile ego: handle with care" and I'm not here to babysit.

Snoozefest
If their bio includes, "I like to have fun and hang out with friends," I am going to assume they are the most boring person I will ever meet. No one ever puts "I hate fun and have no friends," like, stop putting basic human functions into your bio. "Breathing is my favorite also BLINKING."

Desperados
Everyone on Tinder is desperate. No one is an exception. But at least most of us try and hide it. For example, if they are saying things to impress you like, "I will make you laugh," and the rest of their bio is in no way funny, this translates to: "Please like me, please think I'm cool, I need this so bad please please please."

Too Cool for School
90% of the time if they have nothing written in their bio I will not swipe right. Either you are unfunny, unimaginative, lazier than I am (automatic disqualifier - I am pretty lazy), or married with 5 kids.

I Have 9 Abs
I WILL PAY SO MUCH MONEY TO NEVER SEE A SHIRTLESS BATHROOM PIC EVER AGAIN. Beach & hiking pictures I will forgive. Okay, you have a nice bod and you like being outside. Cool. But half-naked selfies are so icky that I am going to assume you will disrespect me at the gym and your name is probably Chad.

Oversharers
I don't mind long bios at all, I think it's nice to see what you have in common before you match. But the ones that go into depth about their horrible last relationship and their expectations for you are so terrifying. I think you are looking for a therapist, not a date. We all need help, but you need help Tinder cannot provide.

Group Tinders
Do I have to explain this? Always college boys. Always.

Deadpan

I don't care if they have serious or "modeling" pictures, but I like to see at least one smiling pic with teeth. Being a pretty smiley person myself, I feel like any pictures of us are gonna look like I'm holding you hostage 24/7 if you're never fully smiling in them. Just my own personal thing.

Douche Canoes
The smart alecs that say, "Let me guess, you love adventures? Just swipe left now." Bro. This is Utah. It attracts outdoorsy people. Let me guess, that baby in your pic is just your niece? Grow up. I saw one guy that had a pic that said, "Don't send me nudes, send me a pic of your medicine cabinet so I can see what kind of psycho I'm dealing with." Well luckily I won't have to because you've already let me know what kind of brainless weenie I'm dealing with so, good luck with your mommy issues.

There will be much more to come in this series as I talk about Tinder and the entirely different social construct that it is. And if you are in one of these categories, please do us a favor and put your label in your bio so that me and my readers can Tinder in peace.

WEEK 2 // The Prince & Pinocchio

First things first, thank you times a million to my amazing readers. You are EVERYTHANG. Creating this blog has to be one of the best decisions I've ever made, although considering I've made a lot of bad decisions this may not mean much. Regardless, I have a lot of important (lol) things to say. And doing it in an anonymous, passive aggressive way is my favorite thing in the world. So without further ado, welcome to WEEK 2 of the weirdest summer of my life.

This week (actually a week ago, yo girl needs a minute to process all of this) I had 2 dates, one on Friday and one on Saturday. This really isn't hard to do on Tinder, so save all of your derogatory comments for Reddit. Thx.

FRIDAY NIGHT // The Prince

The first one I'm gonna name Prince. He kept calling me princess in his Tinder messages, and even though I am def a queen, who was I to correct him?

Prince and I met at a park late one night because I have a death wish. Okay, before you roast me, please listen: the park was very well lit, there were plenty of other couples there, I had my location turned on, and told several people where I was going. Besides, facing potential homicide makes it all the more thrilling!

I'm just going to say it, no it was not a "hook up" thing. Hook up has so many different meanings. Like did you hold hands or did you get it on like Donkey Kong? I don't even know anymore. All I'm saying is nothing of the sort happened, even though the time and place alludes to otherwise.

We walked around, looked at the ducks, and just talked for about an hour. He was busy with work that weekend or we would have gone on an actual date. Problem is... he refused to tell me where he worked. That's weird, right? He told me his position, but when I asked about the name of the company he just said it's in Lindon. And anytime I pressed him he would change the subject. Uhhhh... should I just call the cops now orrrr?

I joked that he had a stalker before and that's why he wouldn't tell me, which is actually a legitimate excuse and I wouldn't blame him at all. But his sense of humor was so dry I could never tell if he was joking or not. This can be an issue if you are literally the most gullible person on the planet, like myself. So when I said, "You had a stalker huh?" and he shakes his head yes, and my eyes get all wide and I say "Really?!" and he just starts laughing... I feel real dumb. And I don't think I'm a dumb person. But the more I asked why he wouldn't tell me and the more he just agreed with whatever answer I came up with, I started to get kind of bored. I was being stubborn, he was being stubborn, and only one of us was getting kind of annoyed.

WHY CAN'T YOU ANSWER A SIMPLE QUESTION?

The mini date ended with a hug, and a promise that I would text him when I got home. I didn't. When instead Prince texted me that he was worried when he didn't hear from me, I assured him I was alive. If only he knew that my friends were also waiting to be reassured I wasn't murdered in the park that night.

Although I wasn't sure if our sense humor matched up or if he really had a job, Prince asked me on another date and I said yes. BUT that will be discussed next week. Unemployed? Homeless? Stay tuned!

SATURDAY NIGHT // Pinocchio

I'd tell you why I named him Pinocchio, but that would give away the ending and be no fun at all. I'm sure if you put your thinking cap on you can already guess.

Pinocchio asked me if I wanted to go to a professional soccer game with him, and since it's the only sport I sort of understand I said yes. Watching people run makes me tired, but I love the energy of live sports games. I mostly just eat snacks and yell when everyone else is yelling... I think I understand dogs now.

So when it's an hour before we are supposed to go and he still hasn't told me where he wants to meet, I am growing concerned. Luckily I was with my cousin watching Beyoncé music videos at the time so I was in a good place. I was just pissed. My desire to braid my hair and wear a fur coat while walking around a parking garage increased tenfold.

Don't hurt yo self.

When I'm supposed to be watching sportball and instead am eating Cubby's while sprawled out on a bed, I am pretty aware I've been stood up. If this has never happened to you, it feels very not good. Like I wasn't even worth a made up excuse of why he couldn't make it. "Sorry, I got attacked by bees" or "Sorry, I promised my dad I would wax his back" or "Sorry, I forgot I didn't want to go" would all have been acceptable answers. I get it. You made plans and regretted them. I do this weekly. But just flat out ignoring someone is the worst way to do it. It sets a raging fire in my soul I cannot explain. I. HATE. IT. It means you nothing me. That's worse than being hated. When you nothing someone, they are literally so unimportant they are not even on your radar. If you hate someone you still care about them a little bit. So help me I will make you loathe me with every part of your being before you nothing me. Okay... scary Kenzie is going away now.

Surprisingly, Pinocchio finally gets back to me on Tinder. The following conversation has been screenshotted (I just added that to the dictionary) for your viewing pleasure:

Pic & name has been changed in order to preserve his will to live.

Like "I had a tickle in my throat" is a little different than "I literally had knives cutting open my body"???? Even though he is obviously lying, I have no proof. I unmatch him right before I remember that homeboy added me on Facebook... *cracks knuckles* After doing some research, I find no mention of exploding appendages or emergency trips to the hospital. There is still a 1% chance he is telling the truth and is lying on his deathbed using the last of his feeble strength to type to his tinder match. Or he is full of it and thinks it's funny to waste people's time! :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

DO NOT LIE TO ME. WHAT IS THE POINT. JUST DO NOT. HOLY COW. 

SORRY FOR ALL THE YELLING.

I think we should all congratulate me for being so polite to him. It may cancel out ranting about it now, but sometimes I just need to go AWF. That's what this blog is for, right? I really am feeling so much better. And if you're reading this Pinocchio, I hope you are too.

WEEK 1 // The Hand Holding Bandit

Welcome to my shameless blog! If this is your first time here, I would start with this post. It explains all about my current psychosis where I have decided to willingly go on dates with strangers from the internet. Yay!

For this first week, we did NOT meet on Tinder. Why am I talking about it? Because it was still a complete stranger. And it's my blog and I can do what I want.

I will call him the Hand Holding Bandit, or HHB for short. It's actually a name I myself was dubbed with back in freshman year of college when I was not yet in the NCMO scene and just literally held hands with every boy. Awwww, fetus Kenzie. So innocent, so, so stupid.

HHB and I met at a rooftop concert here in Provo. Me and a friend were walking around the food trucks, and he stops me in the middle of the street to tell me he loves my hair. Flattered and wanting more compliments I stopped and talked to him. He asked if I like to go dancing, which I do. He then just flat out asked if I wanted to go with him and got my number. It was great! A++. Straight to the point. I hate the dance around of "let's hang out sometime" and "sometime" never happens. If we don't have a time setup, we don't have a date. Then again this advice is coming from someone who is literally dating on Tinder, so don't take anything I say seriously. I am not responsible for your disastrous love life too.

So our date rolls around and I meet him at his house which turns out to be one of those huge polygamist houses that are connected by tunnels. Also the previous owners were hoarders. There are very creepy vibes going on and I am pretty convinced it's haunted. After eating, playing card games and plenty of silent prayers that I would not be possessed by the devil, we leave to go Latin Dancing at BYU which he claims is really close. As it turns out, a quick walk ended up taking about half an hour. This would not have been a problem if I was in shape and it was 20 degrees cooler. But I was sweating and looking a general hot mess about halfway there. As we continue to talk I find out he is very active and likes to run a lot. So it goes without saying he is not breaking a sweat. He has also stolen a tennis ball from someone’s yard that he has been non-stop throwing around while talking to me. My eye twitches but I say nothing. I’m so close to a water fountain. I start hallucinating.

When we finally get there after 300 years, he has built himself up to be a very experienced dancer. I was happy about this because that’s less work I have to do when he is throwing me around. Turns out, we’re about on the same level of average-ness. Also we have ZERO chemistry. Not in a cutesy, bumbly way. In the cringy way. It's like we're K-Stew and R-Patz from the Twilight movies except a lot sweatier. We are not in synch at all, he’s expecting me to predict his every move, and when I don’t he gets very visibly flustered. I start being a little naggy when he’s yanking on me in ways that I know I shouldn’t be yanked on. I can feel the teacher staring at us wondering how we came to be. It’s no bueno. My saving grace was the fire alarm that went off, which was actually a false alarm. But since HHB and I are both cranky and think each other sucks at dancing, we decide to leave. And the awkwardness has only just begun.

As we start the hell trek back to his house and my car, things get weird. Multiple times throughout the night, he has tried to hold my hand. I always politely pulled back. Honestly if I really liked him, I wouldn’t have minded. I am the original Hand Holding Bandit after all. But I wasn’t feeling it. At all. My rejection after rejection doesn’t seemed to have deterred him though. Once again, he tries to hold my hand. I pull away. HHB looks at me with his best puppy dog eyes and goes, “Can I hold your hand?” “Uh, no.” “Please?” “No.” “Please? I want to see if we have chemistry. Will you hold my hand?”

How is it a dog can understand no, but some men can’t?

I literally had to explain to this child for 5 minutes why I wasn’t comfortable holding hands, and it wasn’t necessary to know if you have chemistry or not. Maybe I should take all future dates dancing because it can prevent so many regretful decisions.

“Maybe if I kiss him he’ll stop being a frog!” - Every Girl Ever.

Do not deny it ladies, we have all been there.

Needless to say his constant pleading did not make me succumb to holding hands with him. Our awkward conversation only continues to get awkward-er as he tells me that I’m gonna fall in love with him. WUT. I pick up the pace. He tells me I walk fast. I nervous laugh it off and there is a lot of silence on the way back. He tells me I remind him of a song called Picky. How is that a bad thing? I just say “yep that’s me!” and he giggles to himself about it the rest of the walk home. It was a little unsettling.

Okay, so this date obviously did not go well. I give him the obligatory hug for at least asking me out and thinking of a date, and he stands there like a robot. I back away and say, “Are you seriously not going to hug me?” And he doesn’t say anything. I try walking away and he goes, "No no, come hug me" so I go back in. Again he just stands there. That’s… super obnoxious. Avoiding the weirdest power play ever, I walk away. He tries to get me to come back and when I don’t because I’m not 5 he says, “Am I ever gonna see you again?” I say “Maybe!” and shut the car door.

My maybe was a lie.

So here’s to the next who knows how many dates. The bad, the good, and all the awko-tacos. I feel like the stories are only going to get better from here. And to all my HHB’s, stay sweet.

WHY

Ugh. Tinder.

The app for people who honestly suck at dating and need a very low-risk way to put yourself out there. In public if you went up to someone and said hi and they just walked away, that would be very upsetting. But on the app when you say hi and they ignore you, a variety of factors could be at play:

1) They could be busy.
2) They don’t have internet access.
3) They are talking to 15 other girls at the moment and you got lost in the hoochie mix.
4) They added Tinder and deleted it in a wave of self-hatred and immediate regret.
5) Their bishop told them to delete it. (This is a real thing.)

But you haven’t invested anything yet, and you have no idea if their voice is annoying or they’re secretly a Bronie. Please do not google that, grandpa. Basically, Tinder has a way of creating an emotional wall where you can hide safe behind in your jammies while looking like Chewbacca, judging people. It’s kind of fantastic and genius and also a horrible, terrible Thing That Will Never Die. I seem to have deleted Tinder realistically about a dozen times now. And yet, it somehow creeps back up onto my phone. Like herpes, it never goes away, and no one ever talks about it. So I’m here to um, talk about it! On the internet. Where my friends and family all live.

So what is this blog going to be about? I guess whatever the ever loving heck I want. But right now, I want to talk about this insane thing I am doing. Something that will surely be ridiculed, questioned, and possibly an intervention held for.

I, Makenzie, am going to go on a Tinder date at least once a week, for the rest of the summer. Or until I end up in a dumpster somewhere.

WHY DO I HATE MYSELF SO BAD?

Well, you see, it all started when I was born. Okay, let’s go forward a little bit. It started with my last relationship that ended. It was wonderful and perfect and so obviously I had to destroy it. Jokes. But honestly, it just wasn’t right. So it ended and I threw a big pity party about that for like a month. Annnnnnd I adopted a kitty. Look!

This is Lily and she is my angel cupcake princess.

Anyways, so that happened. And if that’s not the beginning to the My Life Is Slowly Turning Into a Jane Austen Book I don’t know what is. Finally when I was done moping, I decided to kick my own butt and start getting involved in my own YSA ward. That’s what they’re for right? To keep all the single people from being sad and making bad decisions?

Well, I went to a stake activity completely by myself. And if you’ve never done this, imagine you are going to swim in shark infested waters with no floaties. It’s terrifying and so overwhelming. I felt fine until I saw hoards of people playing sports that I 100% was not going to participate in and I began to panic. I sat at a table away from most humans and texted my old roommate who would usually accompany me to these disasters. “I’m at a stake activity by myself. WHERE ARE YOU” I texted dramatically knowing she was 200 miles away, married with a baby on the way. I was a little mad I couldn’t time machine a single version of this friend into my life to comfort me. I seriously debated leaving. Then a tiny voice in my head said, “Just try.” So I was like alright Tiny Voice, you are right. I came out here to get to know people and that means getting really uncomfy and putting yourself out there. ICK. Kicking and screaming, I dragged my inner introvert over to a balloon popping game that looked like I would not hurt myself playing. I ended up seeing the only 3 people I knew from my ward and asked if they wanted to play. And it didn’t suck. Yay me! I did the thing.

After the game ended, a guy I invited to play with us was looking just as lost as I was. Feeling gutsy I went up to him and asked if he knew anyone there. He said he didn’t. SCORE. I found a new friend. A man friend. A cute man friend. A cute, single, man friend. Okay so I might have gotten off track of the "meet lots of new people" road. But I was happy to find someone who seemed fairly normal in the crowd of sweet spirits. We chatted for a bit and I may have made a stupid bet about what movie they were gonna play later, and the loser had to buy the other pizza. Classic cheesy (literally) YSA move, thought up by yours truly. And as I do with all bets, I lost. So he gets my number and blah blah blah. I was so proud of myself. THIS was my reward for putting myself out there. The universe recognized my minimal effort and already good karma was coming my way. Because life is a freaking Disney movie.

Well, a week passes and no text cometh. Needless to say I was bummed out. I was excited to actually go on a date with someone new. All I can think of is that part from 500 Days of Summer where Tom goes, “It could happen... in a world where good things happen to me.” And his friend says, “Well, that’s not really where we live.” I have both of those voices inside my head at all times.

Tom is my spirit animal.

Okay, so why did I tell you that sad, boring story? Because obviously this was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that I have been rejected. I kept thinking about how lucky JoJo from the Bachelorette was who has hoards of babes vying for her attention and falling in love with her on the daily. She has ALL the power. I drooled thinking about it. But like, why couldn't I do that? Not be on my own television show, (although ABC if you're looking for good TV I think a Mormon Bachelorette would be a more hilarious show than any you've ever had, please call me!) but have a genuine fulfilling dating life? Why am I sitting around waiting on boys when I can take it into my own hands? If only there were a place where desperate men are sitting on the sidelines just waiting to do exactly what the men on the Bachelorette are doing... Oh. Oh no.

FRIGGIN TINDER.

I obviously have never had success with it or I wouldn't be writing this blog, but while I had it I was definitely meeting people and going on dates. Cringe-worthy, horror movie, WTF dates. And some just okay ones. And 1 or 2 were awesome, out of the 938712 that I went on. The odds weren’t great, but considering my extraordinary laziness and addiction to my phone, it was a perfect fit. So I did my best Yonce impression and downloaded Tinder like it wasn’t no thang. That little fireball was added right next to Facebook, Instagram, and all of my other soul-sucking accounts. And so it began.

So I have already been on my first date, except we didn’t meet on Tinder. But he was a total stranger so I’m still totes gonna talk about it. Although I will go on mainly Tinder dates, on the rare - may I emphasize RARE - occasion I get asked out in real life I will put that on here as well. All in code of course. And because of the nature of the internet, I can’t prevent any of these guys from finding my blog. But there is nothing I will say on here that I would not say to their faces. I think ya’ll already know that about me. If someone gets offended, whoopdy doo.

Stay tuned! Peace n blessins.