The return of the Good Message Unicorn (or how S learned to not GAF)

Something is happening here at Stucu. Maybe we’ve got the 1.5 to 2 year itch (a figurative itch, people. Gross.) Maybe it’s the recent rejection my co-bloggers and I have endured. Maybe the summer heat is making us crazier than usual…

crazy

Whatever the reason, we have kiiiiind of stopped giving a fuck. About rules. About conventions. Especially about being breezy. When I started online dating, I was fairly preoccupied with not coming off as pathetic or crazy or desperate, to guys, to you readers, to myself, to anyone. I’m not sure where this weird stigma comes from that says single girls in their 20s are batshit insane…

(OH WAIT)

…but I wanted to stay as far away from that stigma as possible.

However. As L mentioned, the more we date, or maybe the older we get, or maybe both, the less this stigma affects and concerns us. Two years into online dating, I’m basically like…

sound of music

Source: www.somegif.com

The other issue is just general human decency. If a guy acts like a douche, I’m feeling less and less inclined to just let it go. We know from experience that the standard of online dating behavior is laughably, pathetically low, but to quote a certain Disney ginger heroine…

Ariel-i-want-more

Source: justgraphicinterchangeformat.tumblr.com

Co-blogger D, what do you think of this GIF? (Co-blogger D has an inexplicably intense hatred for The Little Mermaid, which was my FAVORITE Disney movie as a kid. I know, she’s insane.) (It’s not inexplicable. In fact, I can easily explain it. Ariel is a selfish twat who shits all over her family, signs a deal with the devil, completely changes herself for a man she barely knows, and then is SHOCKED when it all goes awry. That is, until Daddy comes along and, despite all of her bad behavior and poor life choices, fixes everything with magic and gives her exactly what she wants. There is literally nothing to like about that horrid movie, other than “Kiss the Girl.” And Flounder is kinda cute. Yet everyone goes around touting it as great and “a classic.” THAT’S the inexplicable part.) (You see? Insane. Tempting as it is to take the bait and get pulled into D’s crazy world where animated movies for children make total sense and Disney characters are “twats” for not behaving like realistic, responsible adults, I’m going to spare you readers an impending Disney cage match and get back on topic.) (One last thing – the real Hans Christian Andersen version is so much better, and Ariel gets exactly what she deserves. Ok, carry on S, I will now abide by the cease-fire agreement and not comment any further.)

ANYWAY. As you read in her post last week, L and I have christened this summer ‘the summer of YOLO’. (What’s that? YOLO is a thing my roommate’s little sister said two summers ago when she was eighteen? It’s tired and lame and completely over? We can’t hear you, haters, because we’re too busy unironically YOLOing).

Basically, our goal is less of this:

clueless what's wrong with me

Source: rrrrubberbiscuit.tumblr.com

And more of this:

beyonce

Source: www.iworeyogapants.com

Now, for a real life example of this attitude shift in action.

Remember the great message I received literally days after D dumped me? When I was in what some might call a “fragile state” that essentially consisted of sobbing, sleeping, and ordering Thai takeout?

Refresher can be found here. In summary: I received a great message from a cute, seemingly eligible guy but was in no way ready to date again. This Good Message Unicorn and I messaged back and forth a few times until I revealed that I was post-break up and like a newborn foal wobbling around on its shaky little legs out in the single world. I asked him if I could contact him when I was ready to date, and he said that would be great.

Fast forward six weeks. Feeling confident that I was up for sitting across from a stranger over drinks again, I messaged GMU. He messaged back immediately and enthusiastically–WOOHOO! Then I replied, and…

tumbleweed

Source: choualbox.com

You guessed it, readers. Just like the mythical creature for which he was named, Good Message Unicorn disappeared into thin air.

Now, 2013 S? She would have been annoyed, and confused, but she would have dropped it at this point. She would have been afraid to demand an explanation for fear of seeming, well….

But 2014 S? Summer of YOLO S? She’s like…

life goes on

Source: pandawhale.com

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not rolling out some plan to go after every dude who’s ever pulled a fade away. Most of the time, if we haven’t met and a guy disappears, I take it as a sign that he lost interest, shrug it off, and move on. Because most of the time my interest level is only slightly above ‘would rather be watching House Hunters International’ at that point anyway, so it’s no skin off my nose.

But I liked that Unicorn. He had potential, and he seemed pretty into me before he rudely disappeared with zero explanation. I decided I wasn’t cool with things ending this way, so I messaged him. SUMMER OF YOLO, people.

In my message I pointed out that he’d disappeared without warning in the middle of (what I thought was) a great conversation, and told him I wanted to know why. I decided if he’d lost interest, met someone else, or was turned off by something I’d said, whatever it was I could handle it. And more importantly, I wanted to make him say it. No more slinking off like cowards, single men of Okcupid. You jerks.

Use your words

Source: theonlygirlamongboys.blogspot.com

Unsurprisingly, GMU didn’t reply that night, so I thought that was the end of my little experiment. But the next morning I woke up to a semi long-winded response. Allow me to summarize:

  • GMU was super apologetic he’d disappeared and insisted it wasn’t because he’d lost interest
  • He claimed he’d been “really busy at work” and hadn’t had time for Okc lately (sidenote: I call BULLSHIT on this excuse. It had been a week and a half since GMU disappeared, not two days. Are you a brain surgeon? Are you Secretary of State John Kerry and are you currently negotiating a cease fire in Gaza? Oh, you’re not? Then you’re NOT. THAT. BUSY. We all work; we all have a lot going on. If you don’t have literally four minutes out of your day for some human interaction, then don’t join an online dating site and initiate conversations with people. OR alternatively, just shoot me a message saying ‘hey, it’s a crazy week for me but can we meet up next Tuesday for drinks?’ Do I have to bust out the ‘use your words’ GIF again??
  • He claimed he had started to respond to my message, was trying to be witty and funny, never finished it, and by the time he went back to it was afraid too much time had gone by and he’d blown it.
  • He ended with something to the tune of “clearly I’m really bad at this online dating thing, but I’m definitely still interested, so if you’d be up for it, I’d love to take things offline and meet for drinks.”

Hmm. Well. I’d gotten my response. A long-winded response, some of which made no sense, but a response nonetheless. Now the real question was, what was I going to do about it? I briefly considered sassily telling GMU that he had blown it, dropping the mic and exiting stage left…

mic drop ben

Source: theonlygirlamongboys.blogspot.com

….but I thought about what the he’d said, the fact that he’d sincerely apologized, and the fact that he’d ended with getting to the effing point and asking to meet me in person. Sure, I was annoyed that he’d pulled the ‘I’ve been soooo busy’ BS excuse, but he was otherwise appropriately contrite. That’s what I was looking for. So, wouldn’t it make no sense at all to go to all this trouble and then not at least agree to meet this dude who claimed to still be into me? And who I clearly was still into?

1371257249_tumblr_lo9et1q9711qzbyhpo1_500

Source: genius.com

Yup. I YOLO’d again. I messaged back, gave him some shit for the ‘I’ve been busy’ line, gave him my phone number and left the rest up to him and the universe. I was done putting in any effort at this point; if homeboy really wanted to meet me, this was his chance, and I wasn’t doing another thing to make it happen.

Spoiler alert: we did meet. So, was it worth all of that trouble? Did the YOLO approach pay off? Stay tuned, dear readers, for a post on my date with the Good Message Unicorn with answers to these questions and more.

Lastly, D, nice try attempting to have the last word on our Disney feud, but it’s my post. Please enjoy some of the great Disney songs of our time, readers, and have a great weekend!

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Pic(s) of the week: Cat Fancy

Happy Hump Day, guys and gals. Don’t worry, I’m not going to bring up that Geico camel, tempting though it may be, but I would like to discuss another controversial animal: the common house cat.

Unlike my co-blogger L, whose hatred for felines has been well covered, I happen to like cats. I grew up with them and I never understood why they get such a bad rap, especially from smug, superior dog owners (you know who you are, guys.) Cats are clean, adorable, quiet, and soft. I enjoy them.

So I’ve established that I like cats. And that I’m single. I’m sure now (logically) you’re probably assuming that a typical night in my apartment looks a little something like this:

For your information, I actually don’t currently own any cats, Nor do I own a recliner. But show me someone who doesn’t enjoy vanilla frosting and Goldie Hawn portraying a deranged shut in with a death wish for Meryl Streep, and I’ll show you a liar.

Now, why am I going on this cat tangent before 10 am on a Wednesday morning? GREAT question. Last weekend I was lying in bed after a night out, waiting to get sleepy, and passing the time (naturally) by cruising Okcupid on my phone. I’ve recently discovered the app’s semi-new location feature, which is basically Tinder. In other words, Okc finds your location and shows you the profile pics of other dudes who are close by. Pics only. And you either say nope, not interested, and trash their pic, or say yes, I’m into that. When you pick someone, Okc will then let you know if that person, while scrolling through their local matches, picks you as well. This is a pretty senseless concept as I’m pretty sure most people on Okc aren’t even using the feature, and mama needs more than a pic to decide if I want to go out with someone.

Having said that, scrolling through these pics and tossing them into the yay or nay column has become one of my favorite ‘bored and playing with my phone’ pastimes. Take this night in question, for instance, when literally in the span of four minutes I happened upon three amazing/terrifying/creepy profile pics featuring men and CATS. Please note the time on each screen cap; when I say one right after the other I’m not joking. And please. Enjoy.

Creepy Cat Profile Pic #1:

cat1

Well that is… a face that not even a cat lover, and dare I say not even a mother could love. Terrifying. Also made me immediately think of this wildly racist, infinitely creepy little jaunt from a seminal Disney classic that yes, I’ve already referenced on the blog:

I was going to get all high and mighty about the cats being the villains in every movie but actually, looking at that creature perched on Beardsy McHipster, I totally believe that it’s an evil killing machine. Like, I’m assuming our man friend took it into the bathroom because he’s afraid if he leaves it alone it will figure out a way to kill him? And you know how I feel about bathroom selfies… a bathroom selfie with a terrifying animal perched on one’s shoulders is some next level shit.

Creepy Cat Profile Pic #2:

cat2

Ha. This one actually cracks me up. That kitty is adorable and I’m pretttyyyy sure this gentleman is driving. So wait, actually I’m a little alarmed… and come to think of it, he’s smiling for the camera, not looking at the road. That can’t be safe. Also, who’s taking the picture? Why is the cat out of a carrier and just like, straight chillin’ in the car? Where are you guys going? You’re not one of those creepy people who walks his cat on a leash, are you? Because even I’m scared of that.

cat leash

Creepy Cat Pic #3:

cat3

If this find doesn’t call for a mic drop, I don’t know what does.

beyonce drops-mic-o

Boom.

Pic of the week: Sleeping Beauty

Before looking at today’s pics (yes, there are two–get ready to double your pleasure), allow me to set the mood for you. Press play below:

Fantastic. Now you’re ready. Behold:

pic of the week sleeping beauty 1  sleeping beauty 2

Sigh. These are 100% my favorite pics that we’ve featured so far. Let’s get down to it:

  • I feel it’s essential to note that in both these photos, Sleeping Beauty’s eyes are closed like he’s in a deep, restful slumber.
  • SB’s flowing, wild locks are the stuff that romance novel covers and daytime soaps are made of.
  • This must be what it’s like to sleep next to Gaston.
  • Such beautiful, feminine bedding choices (I literally had the same color sheets as pic #1 in college). I wonder if those are also from the Target Mossimo dorm collection.
  • He may sleep in the nude, but like any stylish gal, SB can’t be seen without his accessories! The Livestrong bracelet (um read a newspaper, kthx) and pink dog collar are both clearly bedtime essentials.
  • Speaking of dogs, that animal is either drugged, dead, or praying to a God it knows doesn’t exist to be put out of its misery.
  • Is it just me, or is the lighting in pic #2 suspiciously reminiscent of those soft shots they’d take of old Hollywood starlets by filming them through a cheesecloth?

Picture8

And now we come to our final, most important bullet:

  • Who took these pictures, and why? The evidence overwhelmingly points to a girlfriend or two different but equally insane one night stands: ladylike sheets, toy dog with pink collar, overall creepiness factor. I started to ask myself why… why anyone would want to capture this God among men in all his slumbering glory when they could be resting in his tender embrace. But then I thought, does it matter? The reason’s not important. Those pictures are out there for us to enjoy, and that’s what counts.

Also, I’ve decided that from now on when people ask me about my dating life and I tell them I’m single, instead of feeling bad about myself I’m going to whip out my wallet which will contain two 3×5 copies of these beauties,  flip that shit open for all to see, drop the mic and walk away.