I brag that I’m a low drama dater. My main advantage I tell people on my online dating profile (which is disabled at the moment) is that I don’t make scenes. Or cry. Or raise my voice. Ever. Yep, I glide placidly around my sleepy emotions. I don’t need botox as rarely do I raise an eyebrow nor bat an eyelash.
Low drama is useful with serial dating– no reason to capsize over every piddling thing.
I’m proud that my Facebook single status has not wavered once in the past year.
And only ONE person I’ve dated in the past year ever unfriended me on Facebook (might be two after this post).
While I’m not for manufacturing drama out of every little thing she or he says, I do have openings for a good rant– one that is vicious, funny, and satisfying. Isn’t that what’s good about being single- the phone calls to friends for the pre-game warm up and the post-game analysis? Or the embarrassing status update. I am denying myself great pleasure by being the bigger person.
I’m tired of owning my part in a conflict. Tired of telling people how great everybody I date is. My positivity is now accompanied by facial tics. And brittle smiles. Aftermaths of dating experiences are starting to mimic symptoms of PTSD. It’s true that nobody can be THAT happy about dating.
At a party, I was talking to a contributor to the hilarious dating blog Shmitten Kitten about what it’s like to write about guys they’ve dated. She said they have some boundaries around writing about people they know, but inevitably there have been some awkward moments. I don’t think anybody I’ve dated has read my recent blogs, which gives me more latitude for revelation here since they are squatting on my Facebook and Twitter.
So in closing, I will rant. Ahem.
Thanks for messaging me that you weren’t dating me, but someone else through a Facebook status update. And no, I’m not interested in changing our relationship to Facebook “friends with benefits.” After all, those cutesy pics of you and your new girlfriend show up in my newsfeed.
Dude, I get it- you aren’t that into me. But, I’m not your groupie. Stop treating me like one. xoxo.
There. I said it.