Message Monday: young, single and a tad stupid

I’m not sure why, but my Okc messages seem to be getting more…involved. In other words, random as shit. The pendulum has apparently swung from the standard one word “hi”, “hey”, and “sup” right on over to the to the other extreme. First it was last week’s white trash soliloquy, and now this:

message monday young single and a tad stupid.JPG

First of all:

Could we cool it with the caps lock, sir? Also, don’t shout/type at me to “focus”. I’m already reading your message, you lunatic, so please take it the fuck down a notch and maybe lay off the Adderall next time. 

Second, I was actually online this past Saturday night because I was at a get together with some friends and we were talking about the Tinder-esque “locals” feature on Okc. My married friends, bless their happily-in-love-and-therefore-naive-to-the-h0rrors-of-being-single hearts, wanted to know more about it, so I whipped my phone out and let them swipe away. I realize that this weirdo had no way of knowing that that’s why I was online, but I just want to establish for the record that I wasn’t pathetically trolling for dudes on a Saturday night (at least not on this particular Saturday night).

Third, that little “701,265 hours” line sounds awfully familiar…

Fourth, a “relaxing respite” at the Art Museum steps at 2 am sounds like a one way ticket to Murdersville, population: me. Also, everyone knows that you don’t go to the Art Museum steps to relax; you go to kick ass/be swarmed by a flash mob of small children:

Anyway, I’m thinking you can guess what my thoughts were on this “proposition”:

hard pass


Let’s move on, shall we? I realize that my recent contributions to the blog have consisted exclusively of the following:

but I just want you all to know that I’ve decided to officially get back out there in June. I’m honestly kind of dreading it, and by “kind of” I mean I cried on the phone with L last night after being active on Okcupid for exactly one day. Dating is hard, man. So. Hard. And exhausting. And depressing. And it’s been two solid years of this shit. To be fair, I know plenty of people who have been been in the game for much longer, both in real life and in fiction:

but I also know people who have never had to do it in their lives, and I’m really feeling the jealousy and injustice of that fact right now. Lucky motherfuckers.

Anyway, I can’t promise that I’ll go out with someone right away, because yesterday’s cursory glance onto Okc has confirmed that the dating landscape is just as soul crushingly bleak as ever. I am definitely planning on contacting the Good Message Unicorn from last month, but knowing my luck he’s proooobably engaged by now. Either way, I promise to keep you all posted on my (lack of) progress.

Meanwhile, while I’ve been getting my sea legs back/being a serious Negative Nancy, my co-bloggers have been busy going on actual dates with actual men. Stay tuned for some first date tales later in the week!

tom haverford




We’re the worst: spring edition!

HAPPY SPRING!!!!! Dear God… I can’t believe we’ve actually pulled ourselves out of the dark, dirty gutter that was this winter and are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel! (West coast peeps, feel free to skip this weather rant. Also, f*ck off). It’s also a legit city-wide holiday in my neck of the woods, so I couldn’t be more excited to haul ass to nearest Rita’s after work for a free treat.

Anyway, you may be wondering where we’ve been for the past few weeks. I know, we’re the worst. But since I don’t have an actual post about, you know, dating, to offer you at the moment, I thought I’d give you all a jaunty little update on what’s been going on in the lives of LSD. Because as you’ll soon see, our lives are riveting.

I’ll leave you to guess which bullet belongs to which blogger:

  • One of us is currently in the Caribbean on a “business trip”. While the other two of us know she’s actually working, we can’t help but use “business trip” in quotes since her Instagram is currently filled with pics of her drinking by pools.
  • One of us is MOH in a wedding next weekend and is also throwing the bachelorette two days beforehand. Shit is No. Joke.
  • One of us is neither out of town nor in a wedding, she’s just adopted a Dude-like attitude towards all non-essential life tasks lately:



  • One of us accidentally went on a first date with a Mormon. A Mormon. I mean…



  • One of us actually cares about March Madness. Gross.
  • One of us has a first date coming up on Saturday.
  • One of us is still seeing someone who clearly hasn’t figured out how crazy she is yet. Either that or he’s into the crazy. TBD.
  • One of us can’t stop referring to herself in the third person.

So there you have it. We’re alive, we’re (mostly) well, and we actually do have some fun updates if you can bear with our busy schedules at the moment. And here’s one final piece of good news: none of us are as stupid as this guy. Go us!



How about we….cancel our subscription to HowAboutWe

Earlier this year, when we were still relative online dating newbies, L told me about a new site that she’d just heard of. “It’s like Okcupid,” she explained, “except everyone suggests an idea for a first date.”

Color me intrigued! I remember thinking the concept of men having to provide a date idea up front was not only incredibly attractive, but also borderline genius. I’d do pretty much anything to avoid receiving one or all of the following texts from my date prior to meeting him:

“So what do you want to do?”

“Got any ideas about where we should go?”

“I don’t know the city that well, so I’ll leave the planning to you.”*

*(This one infuriates me. Do you also not have the internet? Have you never heard of Yelp? Are you not in fact texting me from an iPhone 5, but from a Zack Morris monstrosity circa ’91?)

zack morris phone

The thing is, I am not looking for some over the top first date featuring like, a hot air balloon ride (real talk, that idea was legitimately suggested by D, of movie theater yelling fame. He’s a rare date planning gem, that one. We never went, but I kind of secretly still want to. If it ever happens I’ll be sure to share with the class.) Drinks at a chill bar are fine. with. me. It’s not rocket science, gentlemen.

I realize we co-bloggers complain about the inability of men to plan dates pretty much every week, but my job involves a significant amount of event planning, plus I’ve been in a number of weddings this year. Like L, I am a bossy oldest child, so in many cases the logistics of making plans naturally fall to me. This is fine, and most of the time I prefer it that way (again, bossy older child). But I also absolutely love when someone else takes the reigns for a bit. Love.

Between my excitement over dudes doing the planning and my excitement over cutting down on senseless messaging before meeting in person, I was sold. I signed up for HowAboutWe (which I will henceforth refer to as HAW), since it was “free to try”.

air quote rdj

“Free to try” is the favorite term of most online dating sites, with the exception of Okc (the cheap single 20-something’s dream). Basically, you sign up for the site and quickly discover that in order to do pretty much anything besides creep on the home page, you need to fork over actual money. And yet, even with your low level security clearance that gives you access to little more than their blog (responsible for groundbreaking journalism such as this) the site proceeds to bombard you with 1,500 daily emails about your “matches” (who you aren’t allowed to contact until you provide them with your credit card card number).

Here’s a sample of what’s been hitting my inbox at least once a day since I signed up:

how about we

Okay. As you can see, those are three fairly normal, innocuous date suggestions. Totally vague, yes, but they basically make sense.

More often than not though, there’s at least one dude in the mix who has managed to miss the site’s concept completely:

how about we hello  how about we options how about we doggi how about we yup

Sure, I’ve seen some decent answers:

how about we good

Simple. Specific. Involving alcohol. Not bad.

But for every date idea I’ve come across that’s half decent, there are countless that fall into either of the following categories:

1. Uncomfortable/creepy

how about we webcam

(Actually worried for the welfare of that child in the picture. Are you okay, kid?)

2. Nonsensical/Insane

how about we insane  how about we mayo

Due to the underwhelming nature of these prospects, combined with my proclivity to be distrustful of dating sites that cost money following The Great Debacle of 2013, I decided not to spring for the paid membership to HAW. I feel good about my decision, or at least I did until I stumbled upon one dude’s answer while doing research for this post:

how about we gin blossoms

Be still my heart. I’ve loved the Gin Blossoms (unironically) since preteen S first heard Hey Jealousy on Y100 all those years ago. (True story: senior year of high school, a friend and I made the wise decision to memorize the lyrics instead of study for our AP Calculus final. How did that work out for us? FANFUCKINGTASTICALLY. We’re both successful adults, and we both know every word to one of the sweetest 90s jams of all time).

What I’m saying is, I get this person. And I’d totally date this person. The question is, would I fork over a membership to this seemingly shitty dating site just to message him? The cheapo in me says hell no, although a Gin Blossoms themed wedding would be pretty epic. All that long flowing hair and loose fitting button downs, just in time for fall…

What do you think, dear readers? Has anyone out there tried HAW for real? Am I missing out?

Hey, boys. I have a dating blog. Want to go out with me?

One of the first questions I’m asked when people learn that I co-author a dating blog is: do you tell the guys you go out with about it? The answer, to many people’s surprise, is yes. Have I actually allowed my dates to read our blog? No, no I have not. I struggled with what to do about this in the beginning. Common sense told me that revealing to a near stranger that I have a dating blog on a first date might not be the most stellar addition to my five year “Operation: Do Not Become a Crazy Cat Lady” plan, but over time I changed my tune. Here’s why:

1. It’s something to talk about. Dear God, it’s something to talk about. I’ll talk about the Taft Hartley Act if it means we can avoid awkward silences where we both take huge gulps of our drinks and glance nervously around for the nearest fire alarm we can pull.

2. It’s something (sort of) interesting about me. Real talk: I don’t have many “hobbies”. Sure, I have interests. I do things with my friends. I read and keep up on the news and see movies and go to bars and restaurants and cook and take trips and bla bla bla, but so do most people. Things that can actually be classified as true hobbies, though…I kind of come up short.

chelsea handler sit on my ass

I’m not a DJ or local acting sensation. I don’t run marathons (ha! I’d rather be killed). I’m not a classically trained pianist (incidentally my neighbor downstairs actually is, and I feel like I’m living out the plot to Anna Karenina every night when I get home and Rachmaninoff is coming through my floor).

My point is, sometimes dating feels a little like that first job interview after college when you’re basically trying to convince a potential employer that you’re totally qualified and skilled and amazing, even though you’re also not providing them with a tonnnnnn of evidence to support those claims. It’s hard to find a happy medium between selling yourself like a Billy Mays infomercial (oh man he’s dead isn’t he? Whoops.) and coming off as the girl who legitimately spends 80% of her life watching DVR (FYI, it’s really more like 30% when you factor in work and sleep). So this is something interesting about me. And I want to share it, however much it may potentially horrify or scare my date. Mind you, I don’t shout at the first possible moment: FYI I HAVE A DATING BLOG. I try to let it happen more…organically. E.g:

S: So, you’re a journalist? Very cool. I like to write, too. What do you typically write about?

Date: Blablabla small talk. So, you mentioned you like to write?

S: I do.

Date: What do you write about?

S: Well actually, my two friends and I started a blog earlier this year.

Date: That’s awesome! What’s it about?

Which brings me to…

3. It’s a test. If you follow this blog, you may recall that I’m a huge fan of tests. Basically I like to administer small social experiments on my subjects (I’m sorry, dates) and make conclusions based on my data. These may or may not be accurate conclusions, but let’s not ruin the fun by worrying about that! Here’s what I tell my date (in my own brand of breezy hilarity):

  • My two friends and I have an online dating blog
  • We have a lot of fun writing it
  • it’s totally anonymous. We don’t use our names or the names of our dates.
  • We do it because we’re interested in sharing our experiences and talking about all the funny, crazy things that happen to us.

Once I’ve laid out those basic facts, there’s no need to freak out. Because frankly, it’s really not that big of a deal. I’m not revealing to you that I’m Gossip Girl (also can we talk about how Gossip Girl was Dan Humphrey and not Dorota? What’s that, you say? I’m literally the only person in my age bracket who watched that awful show til the bitter end?)


After I drop the “blog bomb”, most guys are a little taken aback at first but quickly recover and then want to know every detail. A brief Q&A with my date typically follows:

Date: Can I read it?

S: No, sorry, I don’t think it’s a good idea at this point.

Date: What’s it called?

S: Again, nope.

Date: Can you tell me a funny dating story?

S: Sure. (*Insert dating story*)

Date: Wow that is pretty funny. Are you trying to turn it into a book or something?

S: Absolutely. Mindy Kaling is our spirit animal.

mindy eat pray love

Date: Are you going to write about me?

This is my cue to sassily (and somewhat gleefully) say:

Only if you do something worth writing about.

To soften that blow, I follow it up by letting dudes know this policy: I try not to write about anyone in real time. In other words, if I’m going out with you, I’m not going to run home after every date and immediately spill all the dirty deets to the internet (unless we’re working on a post about who pays and my date asks me to split the sushi. Sorry, K). In general, though, I’ll wait until I know I’m definitely not seeing the guy again to dish to you lovely readers.

shoshanna classy

I know. Thanks, Shoshanna.

4. Calm down. We’re not exactly famous. Yet. Yet, damn it. Give us time. This is certainly not a slight against our excellent and loyal readers who for reasons beyond comprehension keep coming back three times a week to hear us complain about boys (you guys are the best!). But let’s be real. If we took away our family, friends and the people reading who are directly connected with our family and friends, oh and let’s not forget the pitchfork wielding people of Reddit, we’d have what? Four readers? Maybe? So it’s not like this shit is being published in Vanity Fair (again, yet). Although my mom, ever our biggest cheerleader, seems to think we’re mere moments away from getting our big break. A few months ago L and I were at my parents’ house and the following exchange occurred:

Mom: I think you guys should write for a magazine.

L and S: We’d love to.

Mom: You should get that going soon. Maybe Vogue (Vogue. Omg she’s my favorite).

S: How, mom?

Mom: Who do we know in publishing?

S: …No one?

Clearly my mother was having a Miranda Priestley moment (happens to the best of us):

So unless my mom is spreading wild rumors to the men of OKC that Stucu is being courted by major publishers, which let’s be honest she may actually be doing, our humble little WordPress blog should not send grown ass men into a tailspin.

5. If you’re a nice guy, I probably won’t talk about you. Well, that’s not exactly true. The guy who couldn’t find his car was technically a nice guy, but he also lost his automobile in broad daylight and suffered from crippling social anxiety, so my hands were kind of tied with that one. What I’m trying to say is, I’ve been out with a number of nice, normal dudes who I’ve never mentioned on this blog, because there was nothing worth mentioning. But if something goes down on a date, pretty much the first thing that pops into my head is ‘Yup. This is definitely going on the blog.’

In fact, this has become a running joke with more than one guy I’ve gone out with. If something awkward or weird happens, multiple guys have been like, “Uh ohhhh, this is so going on your blog, I know it is!” One guy even called me out on our first date when the check came. He looked at me and said, “I bet you and your friends talk about who pays on your blog. I bet there’s a right and a wrong way for me to handle this….hmmm what to do, what to do.” I actually enjoy this reaction the most… it should be something we can joke about. Because come on, it’s funny! Guys who show me that they’re cool with it earn major points in my book (I told you it was a test!).

I do wonder sometimes if any of the guys I’ve told have found the blog. They’d have to care an awful lot, and be pretty good sleuths, but I guess it’s possible. In fact, I was going out with a guy recently who called me to tell me that he’d started seeing someone else (music to a single 28 year old’s ears), and after dropping that bomb on me he proceeded to smugly predict that I’d write about the whole experience (what a narcissist! although obviously yes, he was correct). Here’s what he actually said:

H: I’m sure you’ll write about this whole thing on your blog, and I’m sure it will be really funny and great. I can’t wait to read it.

Me: Except I never actually told you my blog’s name.

H: Oh, I’m really good with computers. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding it.

Me: It’s anonymous. So I think you will.

H: Oh. Damn it.

Me: Yeah. This exchange is also going on there, FYI. Have a nice life, dickweed*.

*I didn’t say dickweed. I should have said dickweed! Because what a jerk. As always, Mindy says it best:

mindy kaling gestures


I paid $75 for a subscription and all I got was this rage-filled manifesto

As I may have mentioned once or twice, I’m going through a bit of a dating dry spell at the moment. What typically happens when I tell people this is they immediately instruct me to join Well, bossy advice givers, I’ll have you know that I actually already did. Last fall I was going through a similar dry spell. Fueled by over-exposure to those commercials where everyone looks super happy and attractive, and depressed over my lack of action otherwise, I came to the conclusion that Match must be where it’s at. I had two theories:

1. Match is a paying site so it must weed out at least SOME of the losers and deadbeats I was encountering on okc. If you’re 30, sleeping on your parents’ couch, and can’t afford ramen noodles, you’re probably going to opt for the free dating site, right?

2. Since people are paying, they must be at least a little more serious/proactive about going out and not spending 12 years nonsensically sending messages back and forth online. Paid subscription = we all want to get our money’s worth = no one is f-cking around.

So how was my experience on Let’s just say I would have been better off setting that $75 on fire. But before I tell you about the actual men I went out with (and get excited because they were winners), I’d like to review the actual website for you fine people.

Why was a supreme waste of my money:

  • The site is laughably ghetto. A friend of mine joined Match literally 4-5 years ago (coincidentally she also hated it) and I remember it being EXACTLY the same as it is today. Not one update or aesthetic makeover. It looks like something that was super cool and cutting edge in 1998, and the profile pics are smaller and blurrier than on okc.
  • They delete your messages after a month. I went back to look up an old message and was like waittttt….where are they?? I know you’re thinking what the hell do you need old messages for, and the answer is THIS BLOG, people! Also, I paid for the stupid service, don’t delete my shit! Okcupid is free and I can still access the first message I received and every one in between. And without that technology I could never have accurately brought the world the story of the guy who couldn’t find his car.
  • They make you answer inane questions and then clumsily use them to try to set you up with matches. For instance, they ask you if you like animals, you say yes, and suddenly you will get matched with someone and it will say ‘He’s a dog lover like you!’ with a dog icon next to it. Actually, Match, I wouldn’t call myself a dog lover. Those are your words, not mine. Corgis, yes. Dogs in general, meh. I don’t even want to answer the stupid animals question because I don’t care; stop trying to push people together based on these lame forced conversation starters.
  • There are “like” buttons literally everywhere. We get it, you’re trying to be Facebook, but what happens when you put that  button all over your site is some of us accidentally click it while cruising for dudes three glass of Sutter Home Pinot Grigio deep and end up liking a stranger’s photo of him tailgating with his dad and what looks to be his hot ex-girlfriend. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Here’s what I think of that, Match: facebook-dislike-button
  • They try to upgrade you/sell you something every five minutes. Besides the “stir” events, which are their own brand of hideous, (I was routinely invited to “singles mixers” at my local Banana Republic. Banana. Republic.) there are approximately 15 levels of membership and a bevy of stupid shit around every corner including “professional profile writing” for FORTY DOLLARS. The best (i.e. most insulting) ploy they use to make more money is you can actually pay to have your profile highlighted in an obnoxious day glow green color. This, according to the good people of Match, increases your visibility and the likelihood of someone clicking on your profile. And people pay for it! Tons of dudes had those awful green profiles. Also, I’m no dating guru, but I’m thinking sporting a profile the color of Nickelodeon slime in order to garner male attention might come off a tad desperate. And I’m sorry, but if I have to resort to visual tricks to get a date with someone, I’d rather sit at home on my couch and watch House Hunters: International, a-thank you very much. In summary, is basically a PBS telethon: annoying and relentless. The whole time I wanted to be like listen, Match, I already gave you my hard earned money, and I got my commemorative coffee mug in return. Now let me get back to watching Anne of Green Gables, for f-ck’s sake!

Those were all annoyances, but the real test of an online dating site’s worth is obvious: did I actually get dates? The answer is a weak yes.  I went out with three people from in four months.

Before I tell you about my dates, I just want you to take a look one more time at Match’s stellar marketing campaign and the types of encounters they’re telling single people they’re going to have if they join their site.

Wow, those looked fun. So excited to share my real dates with you guys! You ready? Okay, without further ado:

S’s Dates Date #1: Awkward guy who had what turned out to be crippling social anxiety and who in the first 11 minutes of our date launched into a HORRIFYING story about him having some sort of blood clot thing that paralyzed half of his body suddenly and he had to go to rehab and learn how to walk again and then was in massive medical debt and had to move back home with his parents for two years and became severely depressed and would I like to go watch a movie at his twin sister’s apartment who lives around the corner after we finished our drinks? That was a first date. I’m SERIOUS, guys. That’s how my first date went down. Date # 2: Guy who was nice enough but who was also half a foot shorter than he described himself online and who was so boring I kept having to literally pinch the skin on my arm to stay awake. He loved to talk and told me in excruciating detail about his dad’s lighting(..?) business that he was going to inherit and his hobbies which included following Phish around the country on tour. I believe he’d seen them 33 times. Ugh. Jam bands.


So. Yeah. I’ve actually referenced this date before (although I can’t remember the post where I did, sorry) because it took a truly comical and somewhat epic turn, but I don’t think it would be smart to share it on the interwebs, anonymous or not. But here’s how it ended: my date bought us gelato, and I then stole that gelato, hopped in a cab, and never saw him again. I considered it payment for the 2+ excruciating hours I spent listening to him talk about Phish. #winning Date # 3: Dude who grew up one town away from me in Jersey so we awkwardly knew some of the same people from high school. We had like four dates dates, and they were fine, but it was nothing special. He was a terrible kisser at first, so bad that he earned himself the nickname ‘trouty mouth’. We started going out right before my birthday which he insisted on taking me out for (I swear I was not trying to garner a weird birthday date with a guy I was still in the early stages of dating). HE planned this whole night, then proceeded to cancel at the last minute because of “work things”, then broke it off with me the day after my birthday. Which I was furious about, but only because I didn’t get to do it first. I think I responded with something to the tune of, “Just so you know I didn’t even like you and was planning on ending it, too. Kthx! xoxo”

Obviously I need to be in their next commercial. People of, feel free to contact me about reenacting any of the above encounters. I think it would be a stellar addition to your marketing efforts.

Besides the wonderful dates, I also received far fewer messages on Match than I have on okc. True, that means I received fewer messages that were completely nonsensical and wildly inappropriate, but it also means fewer decent messages that I’d actually reply to. And I also sent fewer, because I struggled to find anyone half decent who I might be interested in. Messaging highlights included:

  •  A guy who canceled and then RE-CANCELED plans for a first date but continued to bug me for weeks via text even when it became abundantly clear that he didn’t actually intend to meet up and that I was probably being catfished.
  • A cute guy who sent me a really lovely message and when I wrote back, mere hours later, he replied with something to the tune of “Actually my subscription runs out tomorrow and I haven’t found anyone on this site so I’m not going to renew my membership. Good luck, though.” What in the fuckity fuck? Then WHY DID YOU MESSAGE ME?!

So. That pool of men which I thought would be so much better than okcupid’s? Here’s the actual breakdown:

men of match graph

The most important point here is the okcupid overlap. I saw literally almost every guy I’ve ever been out with or messaged on okcupid on Match. Besides the fact that running into these dudes can be supremely awkward, it made me wonder why the eff I’m paying for the site when basically everyone on Match seems to also be on okcupid. And why wouldn’t they be? It’s FREE.

Finally, last but certainly not least, do you have an adorable robot mascot who will cheerfully reassure me that she’s off looking for more matches and that she won’t, in fact, let me become an old crazy cat lady in a mumu?





I didn’t think so.


Look, I know I just went off on a long ass tirade, and I stand by it 100%, but I would probably still tell someone who’s never used it/isn’t having luck on okc to give it a try for a few months. Purely because everyone is different, and everyone is looking for someone different, so who knows if your future husband/wife/life partner/no strings attached sex buddy is sitting on the site, having a similarly miserable experience, just waiting for you to come along. When D told me she was thinking about joining Match I encouraged her to do it, but I also regaled her with the many cautionary tales I have from my Match days. I am crossing all my fingers and toes that it works out better for her than it did for me. Either way, we’ll all be able to read her review in the coming months and if we’re lucky, it will be slightly less angry (and verbose) than mine.