Bachelor Recap: Whipped Cream & Lies

My intention was to post weekly recaps of each episode, but I think people need to stop saying 2016 was the worst year because 2017 is taking that as a challenge. This month has kicked my trash five ways to Sunday. With funerals, moving apartments, and all the traveling which I hate with a fiery passion (when I get rich I will personally fund the scientists who are working on teleportation because I am losing my patience), I am exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. But of course I have still been keeping up with the Bachelor, obviously. I just haven't been able to have any time to sit down and actually write something coherent. The words were coming out more angry than usual, and I finally figured out why. We will get to that part. But first and foremost, the woman of the hour.

Let's talk about Corinne. Although I will never stop making fun of the fact that she has an actual nanny, Corinne knows Nick better than anyone else in the house. She is the only one paying any attention. She knows that he makes impulsive decisions, is unapologetic, and is "no bullshit." That's why we like him, right? So please tell me... WHY IS EVERYONE SURPRISED THAT HE LIKES CORINNE? Calculated by three whole seasons worth of what we know about him thus far, this is his dream girl. And people are taking offense to the fact that she is open with him sexually, as if NICK, wouldn't enjoy that. NICK. Do you guys remember anything about him? The guy who slept with someone on national television without so much as an "oopsy daisy?" Or did we all watch Bachelor in Paradise and forget the reason he was even talked about in the first place?

He's actually crying because none of the girls offered to do him in the ocean.

Now that we have remembered Nick is well, a man whore, and since Corinne showing her boobs on national television makes her a whore (except when Shawn from Kaitlyn's season ran around butt naked no one called him names BUT OKAY), they should be a match made in heaven. Yet these girls are losing their shiz. At least they were a few episodes ago, throwing tantrums and threatening to leave if he continued to show interest in someone who is exactly his type. They mask it as "just looking out for him" as if he isn't a grown ass man that can look out for himself. It's not caring, it's manipulative. It actually pissed me off how much time they were wasting talking about it. Have they ever watched a season of the Bachelor?? Talking to the bachelor/bachelorette about other contestants ALWAYS backfires, and you end up looking like an even bigger douche. Cue case in point...

Oh Taylor. The more this weird argument continued about what exactly is emotional intelligence and why Nick would give a shit about that, I had an epiphany. This drama was all too familiar to me. I recognize Taylor's insecurity screaming from a mile away, because I have BEEN Taylor. Hold your gasps, I know. But I used to have a Corinne in my life. Sure we didn't battle it out in front of TV cameras, but we were into the same guy and I didn't think she was right for him. At all. I thought she was immature and annoying, and I did indeed feel superior to her in every way. I was told by this guy, my Nick if you will, "not to worry" about her, because they were just friends. I told him that I wasn't (I was.) He and I were not exclusive, but we weren't NOT together either. Ja feel? I told you guys, non-relationships will kill me one day. Maybe that's why I like the Bachelor so much? Because I have been involuntarily on it in real life so many times?? I digress. This chick was gunning for him, and everyone could see it. And he wasn't exactly turning down her advances. One example being I walked in on them cuddling on the couch at a friend's house and let him later convince me it was nothing. I know I know, I used to be a special kind of stupid. And instead of telling him to go lick a socket, I turned my anger towards her. I haaaated her. So. Much. I wanted to villainize her so badly, similar to what all these lovely contestants are doing. They are making Corinne the bad guy, and Nick is just an innocent victim. As if he doesn't know the word "no." As if her mystic lady parts are putting him under a spell that he cannot break. But I am positive he knows the word no, and from what I'm seeing he is not using it. He is reciprocating her actions, repeatedly. He likes her! Get over it. If this changes the way you see him, then leave. No one is making you stay. But if you still like him and trust his judgment, I would advise shutting your mouth about who else he is dating because you signed up for this. Taylor calling Corinne a "mean girl" is the most ironic statement, because we have witnessed the girls circle around talking shit about Corinne in every single episode. They are no better!! At all. Especially Taylor. Not only does she not get a rose, she comes back to make sure Corinne won't get one. I am going to go ahead and predict the future here and say it will not work. First of all, the previews show Corinne trying to sleep with Nick and we haven't seen that yet. Secondly, unless Corinne is part of the mafia and Taylor has solid proof, nothing she says is going to change his mind. TRUST ME TAY TAY. You are only going to be more pissed off when she makes it to the top 4 and potentially becomes his wife. Which we've seen happen on the Bachelor numerous times, and I have personally experienced. Yep. My Nick ended up marrying that girl I had "nothing to worry about". My eye still hasn't stopped twitching, BUT I was an idiot to waste anymore time talking about it. Which I did. For months. But he was being the douche, and she's not a bad person. She just has bad taste in guys. Something we have in common. :)

And I am sooooOOOOOooooo done with the double standards. I don't have time to educate anyone on this, you can google it, but calling Corinne a slut and not calling Nick a slut is a double standard. Okay? Okay. Either they are both slutty soulmates, or they are simply two people with chemistry and things in common and are just trying to date on television like every other girl there. And bless Tay when she said, "their relationship is built on whipped cream and lies" because this is a fantastic name for their sequel reality show. Also, Corinne is the funniest contestant ever. I'm not saying we would be besties in real life, but her one liners are prime. I plan on foiling this and hanging it over my bed:

"Abraham Lincoln napped! Michael Jordan napped! Why can't I nap?"

If I could have a full episode of just her interviews, I would legitimately pay for that ish on DVD. It makes me so happy. In a way, I think it'd be refreshing if people were more like Corinne. I really do. She goes for what she wants and is 100% herself while doing it. If Taylor were a little less judgmental and removed the sticks from her ass, she would see that Corinne is not actually trying to upset anyone. She is playing the game!! You are on a GAME SHOW. You guys get eliminated WEEKLY. No matter who ends up with Nick, they will still have to tell their kids that they COMPETED for Nick's love. Literally. It's my worst nightmare. I'm still down for Bachelorette though. Bring on the man tears!

I like to rewatch Bachelorette episodes when a man has hurt my feelings.

Alright, next week hopefully we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming and talk about some of the other girls on the show like WHO THE HELL IS WHITNEY and why does she keep getting roses?? Seriously, where did she come from? And I need to publicly apologize for originally nicknaming blonde Danielle "Snoozefest" because I thought she had the personality of a box of crackers, but it turns out she's probably just a little quieter than me but she's actually really funny. Sorry boo. <3

Bachelor Recap: Week 1

I'd say that most of my content I write on this blog is rated PG but this post is def PG-13 in some parts. I would advise all grandpas and anyone under the age of 13 to move along. I'M TALKING TO YOU ARLO ZANE CLARK. Please don't read this. Thanks. Love you g-pa.

As I sit down to watch the first episode of Bachelor, I am sipping hot chocolate that was given to me by a Tinder date. Well, not a date, per say. But we’ll talk about that later. I digress. So as I am sipping my hot chocolate I have obtained through normal dating, I think about how terrible I would be on a reality show. The truth is I’d probably fall in love with all of them the first night and fast forward the proposal to the next episode. It would definitely be entertaining and get fantastic ratings but my life would be destroyed and I’d forever be known as the Mormon Taylor Swift. Don’t get me wrong, I worship her, but that name would not be used as a compliment in the magazine headings. I still have hope that Arie Luyendyk from Emily’s season will eventually be the bachelor because then I will 150,000% sign up, no doubt. I love him more than I have loved any contestant on the show. Where was I going with this? Oh. I could never be on the show, unless Arie was on it. Or unless I have literally given up and need some cash. I will let those stylists put me in a tight revealing dress and make out with some guys for some good money. Yep.

ANYWAYS back to Nick. He is insane for doing this. He has been rejected not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES on national television. We hated him, we laughed with him, we cried with him. I feel like his story should be over. But I think they just feel bad for him at this point. Like the show is saying, “Sorry you got your heart mangled in a blender on our watch, and sorry we made you out to be terrible when you're not that bad, would you like 25 ladies that will obsess over you for compensation? Awesome. Please don’t sue us for defamation of character lol.”

Nick fantasizing about being shot in the face.

So intro is all about how Nick is a redeemed soul blah blah blah shower scene blah blah blah. Cut to my past bachelor babes Sean and Ben giving him some solid advice (both of them are still with their beaus). I don’t know why Chris is there. They could put an eggplant with a face drawn on it in his place and I wouldn’t notice the difference. But I’m just excited to see the 25 girls that are about to cry. They spotlight some of the ladies which I usually skip, but I knew it could be quality blog writing content so I watched.

First up is Rachel, the attorney who I felt fine about until they showed her singing to her vacuum cleaner. I get that the producers egg them on to do stupid things, but seriously?? I’m resisting the urge to look up spoilers already, which I never do. And if anyone does I will find you and murder your whole family. :)

Danielle is super cute. She owns THREE businesses which I think is awesome and I lose all interest in her love story with Nick and instead I would like her to mentor me. How does she manage all that stress and still have flawless skin? If you know her please have her contact me asapity sap.

Vanessa starts speaking French right off the bat. And Italian. I hate when all they do is emphasize that the ethnically ambiguous girls can speak another language. She is also a special ed teacher which I highly respect, but if she greets him in French I am out.

Josephine. I laughed so hard when she came on the screen. Because she looks like every other villain/dumb blonde character that comes on these shows. And in the middle of laughing I see her petting and meowing to her cat, and I stop laughing. Because they could easily convince me to do the same thing if I was in her shoes. And her cat is friggin cute. I want to know it’s name. TELL ME YOUR CAT’S NAME.

Raven, the country bumpkin who they make walk through the corn fields and train tracks for no reason as if this is her morning jog route. All I can think of is Jade from Chris’s season. She’s just giving me those “I’m really sweet but I have a dark, sexy secret that will definitely come out within the next few episodes” vibes.

Corinne lives with her family. And has a “nanny.” No no no, not an assistant, which is a perfectly reasonable thing to have as a business owner, a NANNY. I’m curious if this is the same nanny who raised her and she’s just emotionally attached, or if she literally has to wipe her butt for her? Thoughts?

Alexis. I like her. She’s seems hilarious and down to earth and I feel like we would get along. She’s also a Jersey girl, and I’ve always thought my personality would thrive in a place like New Jersey. They are very passionate, outspoken people. And I have always wanted to dramatically flip a table over. She could teach me! 

Danielle is a really pretty baby nurse lady but I’m not getting a feel for her personality yet if she has one. But the quiet ones usually go far because they seem all mysterious but it turns out they really are as boring as they seem. Or they pull a Jade and they were actually a playboy model at one point. Either or.

Taylor is a mental health counselor, and I think it’s amazing that she has already psychoanalyzed Nick. Because I do that all the time, except I don’t have a degree in it so it’s basically me looking up their astrological signs and making excuses for their behavior. "He's blatantly ignoring me? Such a Sagittarius thing to do lol." She then pulled the race card which I feel is too soon. I guess I can’t say anything because I’m not biracial, but like why are you beginning with that? I wouldn’t go “Hi, nice to meet you I’m Makenzie and I’m a ginger. Here are five stories from my childhood of people tormenting me for it. Please pity me and also let me win the bachelor thx.”

Liz has not only met Nick before, but has SLEPT with him... 9 months ago. That’s hysterical. I love her already. She’s also from Vegas and has multiple piercings so she’s ballsy. Then I notice in the previews for night one that she dyed her hair brown instead of the gorgeous auburn red color it was, and they gave her a spray tan. Now she looks like everyone else!!!!!!!!!! WTF stylists of bachelor. W. T. F. In my opinion she looked wayyyyy better before and I’m mad. I'm linking this post in Elan Gale's Instagram pics.

Okay it’s going to take too long to do introductions of each girl, so I am going to give you the list of what I have nicknamed all of them. Some of the names are highly uncreative and simply going off of words they said, but there are 25 of them and we are going to remember 3 of their real names at best so who cares:

Rachel - Vacuum Singer

Danielle - Boss Lady

Vanessa - Frenchie

Josephine - Cat Lady

Raven - Jade 2

Corinne - Nanny

Alexis - Jersey

Danielle - Snoozefest

Taylor - Race Card

Liz - Smitch

Elizabeth - Blonde Elizabeth

Christen - Batshiz

Kristina - Obligatory Girl With Accent, or, OGWA

Angela - VS Angel

Lauren - Hussie

Michelle - Lemonade

Dominique - Beyonce

Ida Marie - Awkward Turtle

Olivia - Eskimo

Sarah - Punny

Jasmine - Scary

Hailey - Sex Kitten

Astrid - German

Jamie - Balls

Briana - Definitely Going Home Tonight

Susannah - Beard Massage

Brittany - Bend Over

Jasmine - Jasmine like the Flower

Whitney - No One of Importance

Lacey - Hump Day

Here is my guesses right now before I watch it for who is getting the first impression rose. I am going to pick Boss Lady, Vacuum Singer, or Smitch. I’m reeeeally rooting for Smitch for some reason. I think it’s because in my younger days I was known to hook up with someone before I knew anything about them and then try to date them after that. Doesn’t work. Never works. But I’m hoping for her and all the smitches out there that it does. Bless her heart.

Annnnd he picks Vacuum Singer for the first impression rose, and everyone else’s feelings are immediately hurt. Granted, the first impression roses always go far and they have a really good chance of winning. It’s like saying, “Hey, not only am I not sending you home tonight, but probably not for a few episodes! Now you at least have a shot of being on Bachelor in Paradise. Congratsies.” But I think the other girls need to calm down. Just because they have seen him on TV and have fantasized about their imaginary life with him together doesn't mean they know him. But everyone’s glum faces turn upside down and their hopes and dreams are restored the second they get a rose.

BEFORE

AFTER

I love this stupid show so much.

I almost hyperventilated when he waited to give Smitch the last rose. But I understand his decision. She ghosts on him, doesn’t talk to him for 9 months, and suddenly is interested when he becomes the bachelor. But the media made him seem so sketch before, so I totally get why she didn’t want to bother. I am Team Smitch all the way and I hope she makes it far. “Children, the night I met your father I was shit faced and don’t remember most of it. Then I dated him on a reality show and now here you are.”

Hussie is a gem, and she was crying when she got sent home. Ugh. I wish there was a way I could show all the girls a crystal ball that shows that everything will be okay and they are going to be so glad Nick did not propose to them. Your kids would've all had that lisp thing, so thank your lucky stars.

Then they show the wonderful season sneak peek of all the dramatic moments to come and you start thinking thoughts like “Will Nick die alone?”, “Will Russia nuke the mansion?” and “How many people will he sleep with before his penis falls off?” But the only thing I cared about is that on a group date they perform with THE BACKSTREET BOYS. HOLY COW BALLS. NOTHING CAN TOP THAT DATE. I would literally leave after that. Bye Nick Viall, helloooo Nick Carter.

Sooooo there you have it. My thoughts on week 1. I guess this is somehow a replacement of me talking about my dating life, not because I don't have content, but because I am lazy. And the Tinder flow has slowed down quite a bit, I have only been on 2 dates in like 2 months. That's sad for me. And any other dates I go on just don't tend to be horrifying. I'M SORRY K. But now you get to listen to me make fun of people with actual problems because their life decisions have led them to dating on a reality tv show. It makes me feel a little better about having a Tinder blog, okay. And I am the epitome of mental health compared to some of these women. Someone make me the Mormon Bachelorette already, dammit.

Until next time, smitches.

The Third Wheels

It's midnight. I can't sleep. I haven't tried, but my bed looks as appealing as a dungeon floor. My body is exhausted but my brain is racing with all the times I said "you too" after the waiter told me to enjoy my food. I've tried to write this post so many times, but it always comes out preachy and stupid. They say to write drunk and edit sober. No mom, I am not intoxicated, but I am sleepy which is pretty much the same thing. Sleepy Kenzie is responsible for like 95% of all the bad decisions I have ever made in my life. I don't think this is a bad decision, but it will be a treat to see what I wrote in the morning time. It's like I'm drunk texting myself! Hi, me. Did you get a good sleep? Did you have that dream again where you were making out with Adam Levine? I sure hope so, buddy.

Okay so the topic I want to write about is very personal and maybe even too personal for people who enjoy the usual light snarkiness and running commentary on my dating life. If that is the only side of me you ever want to know about, I approve of that decision. You are excused, I won't be offended. Because we're about to get deep, ya'll. So deep I can't even see you. I don't know what that means. Here goes nothing!

For the past two days I have been dealing with major anxiety that doesn't happen very often, but often enough that I can name it and realize that I'm not actually dying no matter what my body is telling me. I like to say that if mental health was a college degree I would have majored in Depression with a minor in Anxiety. But Anxiety has been tired of not being in the spotlight so it has been taking center stage lately. Depression is glad to have a break, but also fights with Anxiety sometimes to take it's rightful place back. Instead of the two balancing each other out, it's like fighting fire with fire. It's like jumping off of a cliff and being stuck in the air. You're paralyzed with fear about falling but you're not actually moving. You can shut your eyes and pretend everything is fine or look down and freak out again. Was that too weird of a metaphor? Here's a gif of a puppy.

This puppy thinks it is going somewhere but it is not.

I don't know. Dating while having depression and anxiety is like having unwanted third wheels at all times. I'm just minding my own business, trying to enjoy spending time with another person, and anxiety is like, "Hey! Just a friendly reminder that could go wrong here. Heartbreak, disaster, death, don't leave any possible scenario out. Also spontaneous combustion is a thing, don't forget!" and then depression is like, "But none of that matters because you suck and are undeserving of happiness and love. Cheers!" And I'm like....

I'LL TAKE NOTE OF THAT THANK YOU.

There are times where they are both quiet, and I have a moment to myself. But most of the time they are right there with me. Snuggled up to me on the couch in between me and a boy. He may not see it, but it disguises itself in sudden mood swings and rude comments and picking fights for no reason. It feeds off of any negative thought and runs with it. Depression likes to self-destruct while anxiety likes to over-protect. Which means one minute I can be distant and the next clingy as all get out. It's exhausting. It's hard to keep up with. I GET IT. I'M A DIFFICULT PERSON. That's fine. I can't change the cards that were handed to me, but I can change my attitude about it. I can choose to embrace these third wheels, and make them comfy. Treat them kindly instead of telling them to shut up and go play in traffic. Acknowledge whatever I am feeling at the time, and even make sure whoever I am with knows what's going on. "Hey, sorry, I was just in a bad mood. I didn't mean to call you a douche waffle." or "Please just listen to me vent for a bit and feed my face and cuddle me and then I'll be good." Communication is key when it comes to dealing with people with mental health issues. Lucky for me, I am very vocal about a lot of things and obviously am pretty open about my struggles. Not in a oh pity me way, but like cut me some slack every now and then and realize that it's not something that is disappearing anytime soon. We are a package deal. Me, and my annoying third wheels.

I am posting about this because this helps me cope with these exact issues, and hopefully can help someone else. If anyone feels like their mental health is getting in the way of their dating life, I feels you. And you can talk to me anytime! Seriously. It's a terd in the brownie of life. But it's okay! It's all going to be okay. You are a shining star and you are doing your best. Celebrate the little victories. Like that fact that you DIDN'T send that late night text. Or you DIDN'T freak out because another female was breathing his air. Or that you DIDN'T murder anyone today.

Sometimes that is enough. You are enough. Stop beating yourself up because someone else didn't understand you well enough. One day someone is going to understand you perfectly. And you won't care that Brody Boat Shoes Wearing My Dad is a Lawyer I Have Nine Abs Handsome BYU Man didn't call you back. It. Won't. Matter!!!

Wow. I feel so great. I need to post at night more often. I love you my little turtle ducks. Good night.

The Worst

So I had my first post-non-breakup date this week and it went really well! We have a second date tonight, so I am going to lump those two together in the same post. And I promise I will tell you guys about it instead of just being like "he's really nice" because ya'll are my besties and I tell you guys everything. Also I am extreeeeemely cynical and am preparing for it to end horribly by writing about it before that happens. :) BUT for now, I would like to tell you about a previous Tinder date that I went on years ago. This life is full of uncertainties, but there are a few things I know for a fact:

1. Spoonfuls of peanut butter are a completely acceptable substitute for a meal.
2. Anyone that starts sentence with, “No offense, but… ” is about to say something horrible.
3. Burke Ramsey definitely killed his sister.
4. The following date is the worst date I have ever been on in my entire life.

Although this was 4 years ago, it was traumatizing enough that I remember the most important details. His hair was a bit too long and was curling upwards at the ends like Jimmy Neutron’s mom. Not a fan. Since that’s too long of a code name I’m gonna call him The Worst. Because he is.

It was the summer I was living in Vegas with my parents in between semesters. I don’t think I have to tell you the pickins’ were slim. My YSA ward consisted of college guys my age that were in Vegas for the summer and had absolutely no intention of taking girls out that they didn’t meet on the strip, and older guys that were single for very obvious reasons. I used Tinder to reassure myself those of the opposite gender were attracted to me and the guys in my ward just sucked. Although matches were not hard to get, guys that weren’t avid club goers or borderline alcoholics were. Not exactly my type. Also not to mention the number of LDS guys compared to those in Utah were much smaller. Flirt to convert is not a thing. Just speaking from experience here, if our goals are not similar, then nothing is going to come of it. (Maybe we can make out or something, but that’s it. Okay, you can come with me to Thanksgiving so my family can shut up. But that’s it.)

The Worst was indeed Mormon and an RM, which doesn't brand him for life as a certified Good Person but it's not a bad starting point. And since the Mormon crowd is pretty close-knit, I heard through someone in my ward that they went to school with The Worst and for some reason that was good enough for me. I didn’t hunt this person down and ask about him, because I tend to like to give people clean slates. I didn’t want to start off the date knowing about everyone he dated in high school and the scorned women of his past. I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that almost every guy is some girl’s Satan in the Flesh, and every girl is some guy’s Crazy Whore of the Earth. Everyone has baggage and dating is messy, so there tends to be some casualties along the way. I myself as an imperfect person have done some pretty crappy things to people. I'm sure someone out there, maybe even someone reading this, thinks I deserve every bad date I talk about and it brings them joy. I can live with that. You do you.

I lived in my parent's house at the time, which might be intimidating for most guys. And actually explains the next few events that occurred. He texted, not called, TEXTED me that he was outside my house. In his car. I took a deep breath. This is fine. Maybe he’s nervous. I walk toward his car, and he’s not getting out. Not to introduce himself, open my door, nothing. I got in the car and quickly introduced myself. Not a fantastic way to start a date with a stranger, but as I said, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don’t remember what we talked about on the way there, I just know it felt awkward. Our conversation was not flowing well. Again, I chalked it up to nervousness. We went to get frozen yogurt. He did pay for me, so he didn’t screw that part up. But he happened to know the owner and had a very long conversation with him (we’re talking 20+ minutes) without introducing me once or acknowledging my presence.

Gee, this is a lot of fun but I gotta go do absolutely anything else.

But I didn’t leave cuz like, he drove me there and I wanted to eat my fro yo. As we finally sat down and ate, he still proves to be a terrible conversationalist. I was asking all the questions, and he wasn’t putting in any effort to get to know me. Why was I there?? I was already beyond annoyed, thinking it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, when he says something that makes me think I hallucinated.

In response to something I asked him, he replied, “Yeah, my girlfriend… “

What.

“Did you just say you have a girlfriend?”

“Well, sometimes I call her my girlfriend.”

Kill me. Kill me now.

“What?”

“She’s going on a mission so we broke up, and I’m trying to date other people.”

“So she’s not your girlfriend.”

“Well I go and see her when I’m up north.”

WTF.

what the fresh hell is this

I hated everything that was happening. This guy was delusional thinking any girl would want to go out with him while he blabbed on about his non-girlfriend. I told him he probably shouldn't be asking girls out until he works that out, and he could tell I was fuming. As we left, he said something to try and make things better and then offered a hug. Don’t ask me why, but I hugged him. Ick. I don’t think there’s enough showers in the world to wipe that off. He seemed weirdly concerned about me and my feelings all of a sudden, and asked if we could go to a park to talk. I felt like he was trying to apologize in his own way, and maybe I could get a better explanation about the girlfriend thing. I was STILL giving this bozo the benefit of the freaking doubt. What is wrong with me. Well, you see... *See my 345 page research paper for more information on my issues.*

As we park in the parking lot of the park (lol) we sat there for a second. Many seconds. I asked if he wanted to actually get out and walk around, I mean it was in the middle of a really nice day. He said no, he wanted to stay in the car and talk.

Ef.

What I thought was an innocent suggestion turned very quickly into the stuff of Tinder nightmares.

“Wanna sit in the backseat?”

“Uhhh… not really?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s unnecessary, why can’t we just talk where we’re sitting?”

“I wanna cuddle.”

“No. I don’t know you.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please? Will you sit in the back seat with me?”

“Will you drop it? I said no.”

My tone sounds angry, but looking back I was probably being nice and playful about it.

help

A guy saying he "just wants to cuddle" is code for "I want to do anything but cuddling." Cuddling is the gateway drug to NCMO's, kiddos. I told him I needed to go. “Nah, you don’t need to go.” “I do though.” “No you don’t.” In girl code fashion I texted my mom, my sister, and my best friend to call me and pretend I needed to come home right away. I don’t remember who called me but someone did, and we had a fake conversation about how I needed to leave. EVEN AFTER THIS PHONE CALL, HE STILL DIDN’T THINK I HAD A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO GO HOME.

This is it. This is how I die.

It got to the point where he was being creepy. Yes it was broad daylight, and he was a pretty skinny guy so I felt like I could take him if I needed to. But I didn’t want to spend one more moment with him in that vehicle. I didn’t want to be on the news. I didn’t want to have to murder someone, not today. I have a lot of untapped rage that has built up over the years from 5th grade bullies and other a-holes like him.

I guess walking was an option, we were close enough to my house. But my pridefulness said that he should at least have the decency to drive me. Yes he was a major weirdo on every level, but I don’t think he was going to try anything. He’s just used to girls not turning him down. He was good looking enough, I guess. But like, his personality is so ew.

After being in the car for way too long, maybe 15-20 minutes, he finally drives me home. He gets out to hug me this time. I go into my house. I kiss the ground. I hug my dog. I delete my Tinder. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, again.

lololol

Minutes later, I get a call from him. An apology maybe? My ego liked the sound of that. When I answered, I came to find it was far from it. This guy spent HALF AN HOUR talking to me about every bad thing he had ever done and details you should only be telling your wife and probably your bishop. I think a part of me had a premonition about this blog or something, because I stayed on the phone and just listened. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Everything he was spewing was fantastic blackmail. It was bizarre. I am a stranger on Tinder that he just had a terrible date with, and the things he was telling me were so inappropriate considering that I wasn't his betrothed or his therapist, and if I was evil enough I could have used it against him somehow. I wish I could tell you what he said, but it is TMI even for this blog. He wasn't harassing me or anything, or I would not have refrained from unleashing my wrath if that was the case.

this is me trying to be intimidating

After I hung up, I never heard from him again. BUT I did run into him over the summer while I was with some other friends, except I avoided eye contact and pretended like I didn't know who he was. Which I think was for the best. I don't think I got on Tinder for a while after that. By that I mean like, maybe I deleted it for a few weeks. Who's to say. I've had it off and on as long as I've known of it's existence. That's not the point. The point is, the worst date I've ever been on came from Tinder and the best date I've been on came from Tinder. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.

You = Jerry. Pie = Tinder.

~*~*~*~*~THANKS FOR READING~*~*~*~*~*

Do you guys remember when we would sign all of our e-mails in middle school like that? We should bring that back. I'ma start.

HAHAHAHAHAA

WELP. THAT DIDN'T TAKE LONG.

Remember that time I said Tinder was staying gone from my life indefinitely?

Let's all laugh together.

It's been 3 weeks of sulking since I was royally dumped on my arse, and that's 2 weeks and 6 days too long for my taste. Even though a part of me is more than happy to pout for an eternity, the not-psycho part of me is dragging me kicking and screaming back to the Tinder wasteland. I cleared some apps for my phone, turned on my Boss playlist (consists of Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, and Meghan Trainor to name a few plz don't judge me), clicked the download button and waited for regret and pain to follow. Instead, I felt nothing. I think I have permanently cleansed myself of all bad feelings associated with Tinder. Which is good. I think the vibes you have while swiping are transferred electronically and the person on the other end can sense them. So if I have positive energy I will attract less weirdos. Trust Me I Am An Expert.™

As I logged on, I immediately changed all my pictures. Most of them were 2-3 years old. I have a theory that 22 year old Makenzie attracts different people than 25 year old Makenzie. Less coeds that are still finding their way through life and more guys that have careers and know how to do their own taxes. I mean, I'm still figuring out taxes but it's good if at least one of us knows how to do that.

Next was the bio. When I logged back in it was, "Talents include rapping Super Bass flawlessly and avoiding confrontation." Another past favorite I remember having was "swipe left if you don't consider Pluto a planet." Short quips are excellent conversation starters and reveal absolutely nothing about my life other than I am funny. And if they don't think so, then I didn't want to be talking to them anyway. I quickly changed it to, "My cat doesn't like you and she likes everyone." Satisfied with this pop culture reference mixed with the fact that I will always love my cat more than I love any person, I start swiping.

I swipe right a few times, and swipe left a few hundred times. I always forget how picky I am. But remembering that this was the formula I used for all past dates and didn't have any issues finding normal guys, I trench on and resist the urge to swipe right on those who say they have a thing for redheads in their bio. As the matches start to pop up, I already felt significantly better. I should probably seek help for the rush I get from strangers validating my attractiveness on the internet, but that's besides the point. The point is I am getting back on the stupid horse. Because sometimes the ride is really wonderful and exhilarating and sometimes you get bucked off and eat dirt. But it's still better than walking. There is no end goal or "I'm going on a date every week until I die" thing. That's exhausting. I'm going with the flow, and will be blogging my adventures along the way. I am perfectly content being single forever, but who says I can't be a hot 65 year old still going on dates? WHO SAYS???

For those curious about the content of my previously mentioned Boss playlist, here's one of my favorite songs that I feel very much relates to Tinder and is good for the single soul. Enjoy.

Schmidt & DB

I'm baaaaaaaaack.

NO, I did not re-download Tinder (yet.)

But I do have sad Tinder related stories for you. Put on your seatbelts, get out the tissues, and I accept pity payments via Paypal at makenzie.vance@gmail.com thank you.

Schmidt

Schmidt from New Girl is well dressed, opinionated, abbreviates many of his words, and is laughing-til-you-cry funny. This guy I'm going to talk about is no different so we're gonna call him Schmidt. He once joked that he would end up on this blog one day, and one of his code name suggestions was "my cousin Moze" but that's gross and we shan't be using it.

We met on Tinder. The beginning to any classy, modern love story.

Except, Schmidt absolutely refused to admit this to anyone that asked and would blatantly lie about it. I guess I don't blame him, but it's not like we met at a seedy club or a Nickelback Concert. But whatever, he hated it and that was fine. This was probably due to the fact that he was a normal human. He was only on Tinder for like 2 seconds before he deleted it and I just happened to fall into that window. It was like the Tinder gods parted the heavens and said, "You seem like a nice girl who needs a break, here's a cute boy with no criminal record and has all his teeth. Go nuts."

I know what your next question is, and no he is not any boy I have written about thus far. We didn't even meet during my last Tinder rampage. We actually met a year ago, and had an awesome first date. I told people it was one of the best dates I had ever been on, on or off Tinder. Long story short, I moved away shortly after and we both got into relationships so neither of us were super heartbroken. ANYways let's fast forward to this year when I saw him at Target.

I saw Schmidt at Target by himself, but I was too chicken to go up and say anything to him. He could be dating someone or just flat out not know who I was, so I decided messaging him on Facebook was the safer, less creepy route. Thinking back it's really not any less creepy. We had a short conversation updating each other on our lives, but he did indeed have a girlfriend so the convo was short. A few weeks later he broke up with his ex and I get a message from him asking if I wanted to do something.

This is the part I am going to have to fast forward as to avoid throwing up all over my keyboard.

Basically we hit it off and started seeing each other fairly regularly for about a month and a half. I hung out with his friends, he hung out with mine, he even met my mom. I was gonna meet his parents when they were in town. It seemed to be going swimmingly. We were acting very couple-y very quickly without the title, much to my dismay. But I'm pretty used to non-relationships. I can't seem to escape them. Like Herpes. Or political posts on Facebook. A few times I would ask how he was feeling about things to which he responded that he just wanted to take it slow.

Which brings us to a few days ago when I was sitting in my living room, trying to set up my IKEA furniture I had just bought because #adulting. Schmidt had just helped me bring it in and I told him he could stay and help me put it together if he wanted, something I feel is completely in the realm of responsibility of non-boyfriends. Instead he hits me with the "I actually wanted to talk to you about something... " and my heart sank. The tone of his voice was not good. I slid right into denial. "No. I don't want to talk." "You don't wanna talk?" "I mean, yeah, okay fine let's talk."

I am a 25 year old woman living in Happy Valley Utah, I know a thing or two about being dumped. For the next few minutes as I listened to him talk about how great I was I felt the tears welling up in my eyeballs. Crap. I used to have a rule about not crying in front of boys. Firstly, it ruins your makeup you carefully put on in prep for hanging out with them. Secondly, it's hard to get any words out to form a coherent sentence. I asked if there was another girl. He said no. I asked if there was anything about me that was a deal breaker for him. He said no, it was nothing I did or said. I was so super duper great. He just wasn't feeling the same connection he felt with me on our first date. It was a conversation straight out of the Bachelor except there were no cameras or makeup crew to help me fix my face.

Yikes.

Ugh. And he was so nice about it too. You'd think that would make it easier, but I don't get to trash talk him and that always makes me feel 1000% better. I couldn't think of one legitimate reason to be mad at him for, other than not liking me. Which he has zero control over. You know what the sucky part is though?? Because of our non-relationship status it wasn't even technically a break up. It was a pre-break up. I don't even get a participation trophy. The game just ended in the middle and nobody wins and everyone goes home confused and sad.

Half of me was so gutted that I wanted to curl up into a ball and just cry until I died or got hungry. The other half of me that is the queen of bad decisions wanted to re-download Tinder and hook up with the first person I could find to agree to it that wasn't disgusting. I KNOW I HATE ME TOO. Since neither of those are healthy options, I am blogging. It helps me cope more than anything else, and gives me an outlet to vent and make people feel bad for me. (Gift baskets appreciated and encouraged.)

Does this make me want to get back on Tinder? A little, yes. Because if I found someone like him than that means there are more gems out there I could find. And then another part of me would rather punch myself hard in the face than do that. I want to never leave my house where me and my cat can live happily ever after and never feel vulnerable or hurt again. I can order groceries to my house from Amazon, as well as every other necessity I could ever need. I will make Lily an Instagram star and support my lifestyle through her sponsors and modeling contracts. It is a flawless plan where no boys are involved and I can live my life drama and tear-free.

But as for right now, I have bags under my eyes that look like I have been doing too much crying and not enough sleeping. I had a milkshake for dinner last night. Which I feel is a lot better than I could be doing.

This brings us to the following evening.

DB

DB is short for douche bag or any other expletive you can think of. Please refer back to my first post for the full back story to this. To sum up: we met at a singles event over the summer, I promised I'd buy him pizza, he got my number, never heard from him again. Pretty simple. So fast foward to 2 nights ago when me and a friend went to a concert of a band that was really popular in our high school days. Unfortunately, DB's band was opening for them. But I'm an adult and did absolutely nothing wrong so I didn't feel weird about seeing him. His band didn't suck, I'll say that. When the main band came out, me and my friend were within kissing distance of the lead singer most of the time and I totes touched his hand. It was the exact sweaty, magical break I needed after a rough day. I was exhausted after the show but my friend wanted merch so we waited in line. DB was at the table with his band's stuff and when we came by he was like, "Hey you!" and hugged me like we were friends and not people that met exactly one time at an awkward YSA event. His band mate asked how we knew each other and DB wasted no time in saying, "She hit on me at a singles ward thing."

"Okay, no." I'm pretty sure were the first words out of my mouth or at least the ones in my head. Instead of retaliating with the fact that anyone with an IQ over 30 could see that he was flirting with me, or that he is the one that got my number that night, I throw him under the bus a little. "Listen, we were supposed to go get pizza and this kid never got back to me" I told his friend. DB shrugs and then says one of the stupidest things I have ever heard. "Well, that's cuz I knew you would end up paying for it."

I have several problems with this answer. Firstly, this has never been a problem of any male's in the history of ever. He should get some kind of recognition for being the first one. Secondly, that was literally the deal. We made a bet. I lost. And the loser had to pay for pizza. When I said this he says, "Well, I cheated." Nice. My friend who is not known for holding anything back says, "So you cheated on the bet and then never followed through with it?" and something about how it was a horrible thing to do. DB feigned guilt but all in all didn't seem to feel that bad about it. One of my shining moments in all of this was the next part. I said, "Who refuses free food, with this??" motioning to myself and my hotness. Which I was, by the way. My eyebrows and lipstick were cooperating with me that night so I said a silent prayer to thank the makeup gods. DB goes, "I know, perfection."

I am used to guys shamelessly flirting with me even though I have given them no inclination to do so. It's the nature of most egotistical musicians and consequently half of the Provo population. He was clearly not going to admit to blowing me off or apologize for anything ever, so I gave up trying. Asking why a jerky person is being a jerk is like asking a dog why it is barking at nothing. You won't get an answer, just more barking. After several eye rolls and guilting them into giving us free CDs, we left. The drive home included a lot of swearing and contemplating moving to Guam, but I eventually felt a lot better about the entire situation. He's obviously a terd blossom who is lucky I ever considered spending time with him. I also appreciated Schmidt a hundred thousand times more for being so honest with me when he ended it. I could tell he was being genuine and never actually wanted to hurt me. As my sister lovingly stated, Schmidt "raises your group average quite a bit."

I am in a place where I don't think I'm going to have the energy to date for like another 6 years. Tinder is staying gone from my phone and life. But I do have some more Tinder stories I never told you guys that are way less sad, so I might delve into those a bit.

Thanks as always for reading, and stay classy Provo!

Tinder Hall of Fame

7 weeks

19 dates

92384 oz. of DP consumed probably

Did you guys even realize all that happened? Did you know what you were putting me through? What's that? Literally no one asked me to do this? Okay but did anyone not ask me to do this? That's what I thought.

I have been on more dates in those few months than I have been on in my entire life. Granted, about half of those are non-Tinder dates. BUT I blame this entire Tinder experience for my dating life picking up at all. It's like guys can smell the competition. Or Mercury was in retrograde or I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW. Instead of posting some long rambly vomit on what I have learned and how much I've grown as a person, I'm going to end on the same snarky note I started on. What better way to go out than celebrating all the champs who didn't make it? The Tinderers who are still lost in the sea of bad grammar and people cheating on their significant others. The ones who are determined to make Tinder work for them because their cousin's friend's brother's co-worker totally found her husband on Tinder so it can WORK. It. Can. Work. *sniff* Okay, can we be clear that the amount of people that find love on Tinder are probably among the percentage that find love on The Bachelor? It happens, but that's not what it's meant for. It's for entertainment purposes and most people are not being sincere. It's all a big creepy game to them. And the ones that are being sincere get taken advantage of. If you are in the latter category, you need to either realize that you're going to have to sift through a lot of human garbage to get to the good stuff. OR save yourself the trouble and get the heck out of dodge.

I have been taking screenshots since I started this whole thing, and when I counted them I had over 100. Maybe one day in my memoir I will include them in totality, but for now I have narrowed it down to 42 of the best of the worst. There's also some Bumble screenshots thrown in there, which for anyone unfamiliar it's the exact same as Tinder but girls have to say something first in 24 hours or else the match goes away. But the same weirdos from Tinder are on Bumble so I see absolutely no point to this. Something fun to do is watch your matches slowly die as the time runs out and think about how much you do not care.

Here goes nothing with the funny, the sad, and the WTF.

**slideshow temporarily not working, will get it fixed ASAP!**

And that's a wrap, folks. BUT WAIT. I have a surprise for you guys!! In between Tinder dates I have been working hard on my side hustle, a shop called Smitches where we sell hand foiled, sassy prints. And since you guys have been with me since this blog started, or at least you got to the end of this post, you deserve a treat. I am giving ya'll FREE shipping with the code TINDERER at checkout. The code will expire at the end of September, so you have plenty of time to choose one of our sexy Halloween prints or maybe some early Christmas shopping? Too soon?

LOVE YOU GUYS. STAY SAFE OUT THERE. DON'T GO TO PARKS AT NIGHT TIME. UNLESS THEY ARE WELL LIT AND YOU HAVE YOUR LOCATION TURNED ON. :)

Tinder Queen, out.