eDating for the Socially Awkward

    I can see how the title can mislead one into thinking that 1) I actually have advice for the socially awkward and 2) I am an experienced dater. Do not be fooled, neither of the above is true. I have not been on a date in 3 years, and in the words of Chandler Bing, I'm hopeless and awkward and desperate for love. Well, sorta... In any case, the following post contains accounts of my botched up attempts at dating, and is not in fact anything you should emulate. This is solely for your entertainment, capisce?
    So one of the joys of being a 21 year old freshman, and by joys I mean whyyy, is that everyone in my class is fresh out of high school and is my age...three years ago. Big deal, right? Well, it is. It's just a thing I have, I can't bring myself to date anyone younger than me. I feel like a cradle robber! Solution: hang with seniors, who are actually, for the most part my age. Easy. If the title of this post was in fact, eDating for the Social Butterfly. I am, for all intents and purposes, a 12 year old stuck in a 21 year old's body. To illustrate,



So smooth. Heaven forbid he smiles. At which point I revert to default mode: resting bitch face with a sudden and morbid fascination with the ground. Why? Well, if I knew the answer to that I'd quit doing it, now wouldn't I? I mean, ugh, I'm one step away from drawing maps with my toe and giggling!
    You can't accuse me of not trying. A while back, I joined an online dating site. Don't judge me. You've read everything preceding this, I have problems! One thing to note, I may be a wreck in the one-on-one social skills department, but I am an absolute hoot on paper, e- or otherwise (as evidenced by this blog, if I do say so myself). Another thing to note, I have recently discovered, I can be a little picky if so inclined. I can't help it if I enjoy intelligent conversations with interesting, and dare I say, funny people. The guy can be sporting a twelve pack with the face of Jason Momoa, and shut it all down if he can't so much as distinguish between 'your' and 'you're'. It also seems that everyone is, to quote, um, a lot of them, "a laid back, easy going, sensitive guy". Can I just clarify that, and allow me to speak for all women, at no point will I read that and think, 'Well, it's on his profile so it must be true'. Then there are the over-sharers. If in the first 5 seconds of reading your profile, I know about your ex-wife and your terrible divorce and your reservations about love because she broke your heart, maaaybe dial it back a notch.
    Not to say there aren't some, seemingly, decent guys out there. Who, because I'm so gosh darn lucky, also happen to have a child from a previous marriage (call me crazy, but that's a lot going on at age 24). and/or are a good 10+ years older than me. Or 5'4". Yes, I'm superficial, sue me. Also, it has been mentioned that I'm old-fashioned in some ways, and I personally don't think it's asking for a lot to want the guy to make the first move. I'm on one of those sites that require membership, thus a monthly fee, in order to see who likes your profile. Nope. So, according to the site, 148 people have clicked 'Like'. Funny that, seeing as tumbleweed is rolling across my inbox. The ones who do message me turn out to be guys with some sort of 'swirl' fetish. Pass.
    My love life, ladies and gents. Thanks for reading.

Saddling The Horse

    I feel like, if I write it, I have to commit to it. So, old news, weight loss journey and all that jazz continues still. It doesn't really ever end. Definitely not for people like me. I'm one of those unfortunate souls who break their backs losing weight, but so much as smell a slice of bread and gain it all back. Ain't life grand.
    So, this is somewhat part 2 of the journey, because, honestly, I haven't worked out all that much post-boot camp (can't believe that was a year ago!), and I have 2 kg to prove it. Ugh. But, twas not all in vain. Since part 1 of my journey, I am definitely more conscious about what I put on my plate. I have been exposed to a world where no thigh gap be damned, girls break out them short shorts and crop tops (there are some courageous souls out there, people!) and while my very African upbringing is embedded deep within me, I'd like the option should I succumb to a particularly fabulous pair of shorts.
    I won't lie, exercise is not exactly up there with my list of favorite things to do. If I'm running, let it be clear to everyone that there is imminent danger and it is coming fast. There's a stack of things against me, one of them being my introvert tendencies, coupled with my love of books = sweet treats cozied up in bed getting lost in some fantasyland. At least, this had been me for the longest time, til a little channel called TLC came along and terrified me to my very soul. How, you ask? Where to begin... 'My 600-lb life', 'Weighing up the enemy', 'My weight is killing me'... you get the gist. Now, I am an extremely far cry from 600 pounds (that's ~272 kg FYI), but it's been enough to instill the fear of God in me.
    It's a hard concept to grasp if it hasn't been a personal experience, but there's a period in a big girl's life when she goes from looking at herself in the mirror and mercilessly picking herself apart, to feeling sorry for herself because she's so unhappy, to simply being sick and tired of feeling sorry for herself, and having a pile of clothes in her closet that will be revisited 'when she's smaller'. That, friends, is the point of no return. No thought is more terrifying than the possibility of reverting back to that girl, after mastering up the courage to drag herself from there.
    So, as always, bitch I shall about every burpee, every sit-up, every bloody lunge I do begrudgingly, and I'll day dream about that delicious chocolate chip chocolate cake with chocolate fudge and be content with the idea of it (and of course get me some of that once in a while. I'm no masochist) but I'll suck it up and do it...I owe it to that girl.