Tinderer: 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.