Weekend Update

I just wanted to touch on a couple of points from the weekend.

A.  Either men in Charlotte haven’t hit their growth spurt yet or E and I are gargantuan.  Not only did this Spinster Saturday again prove the 8/4 theory (see previous post entitled 10,8,5,4 What?!), but it also showed that the average height for eligible bachelors is somewhere around 5’8”.  This is extremely unsettling for me being 5’8” myself and around 6’ with a quality pair of Badgley Mishkas.  If you live somewhere where men are bred as Jolly Green Giants minus the St. Patty’s hue, make room on your couch because I need to visit!B.  If a guy seems too good to be true, he is.  I’ve been emailing back and forth with a guy on EH who seemed amazing: good looks, tall, loves kids, healthy, funny, good grammar.  If I had a check list, he would get a check for almost everything on it.  He pursued me, made me feel like he was extremely interested, and gave me his number so I could call to set up a date.  IT WAS A BOGUS NUMBER!  Why would you go through all of that trouble to seek me out, email back and forth, and ask me out, only to give me the brush off!?!  I got the feeling it was too good to be true and tried not to get excited about him, but it’s hard when your options are limited.  Note to self: follow your instincts – that little voice inside knows more than you do!

C.  I have amazing friends!  This was the last Spinster Saturday for a while due to scheduling conflicts and even if the men weren’t biting, we still know how to have a great time on our own.  A special shout-out to KiKi and her sister Coco for cameo appearances and of course my girl E for keeping me sane.-M


Guess what today is?

Welp, I officially made it through 100 days of my he-tox.  This is probably the part where I should describe how liberated and happy I feel for completing the he-tox, but more than that I feel proud of myself for making it through the toughest part of a breakup with my dignity intact.  I never drunk dialed, texted, showed up at his house, slashed his tires, or any other crazy ex-girlfriend move (not to say I didn’t think about it a few times – mostly violent acts).  I can walk away with my head high and my tears dry and say “F*ck you, Peter Pan!”

That is all.


Lessons from Eharmony, Volume 2

One of the biggest things EHarmony has taught us is that dating isn’t easy.  We have tried to make it enjoyable and funny for our amusement as well as our readers’; but for the most part, it kind of blows.  E and I have both been absent from blogging the past week or so because we’ve each been struggling with some different demons.  It’s easy to write when you feel good and life is uncomplicated, but when doubts and insecurities start to creep into your psyche, the stream of consciousness gets dammed.

For one, it’s hard to use dating as a tool to get over someone when you’re constantly reminded of how horrible the dating pool is.  It makes you question if the man you’re trying to put in your past isn’t worth a second chance in your present…  I mean clearly he’s not as bad as the rest of the guys you’re dating, right?  But to quote a very strong super-fox’s post from before, “It’s called a break-up because it’s broken!”

Also, women are known for being monogamous and men think it’s because we fall in love easily and can’t see ourselves with anyone else.  But the truth is it’s damn hard and a lot of work impressing a guy and once you get one hooked, it’s not worth the time and effort going after the rest.  It’s difficult seeing the look of disappointment in a man’s eyes when you don’t live up to his expectations or feeling the frustration of rejection repeatedly.

I don’t want you all to think that this blog is now going to turn into a sentimental pity party for single women, because what the hell fun would that be?!  Nevertheless we want everyone to know there are peaks and valleys to this whole dating thing. Thank God we have our friends to get us through them!

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger; Stand a little taller; Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone.” – Kelly Clarkson


Lessons from Eharmony, Volume 1

When it boils down to it, the purpose of this blog and our online dating adventures was to learn more about ourselves and what we are truly looking for in a partner.  Two months into the process, we’ve had some eye opening and soul searching moments (along with quite a few laughs).  This begins a multi-post installment of “Lessons from Eharmony.”

I have been out with some men that are just SIMPLE.  They lead simple lives, have simple interests, and just move from one day to the next.  Not that simple is a bad thing, but I think too many men have taken Lynard Skynard’s lyrics to heart. 

I am NOT simple.  I am somewhat of a hot mess, but I am complex.  I have many layers.  Everything about me is not on the surface and I can’t just describe myself in a few words.

Eharmony has taught me that I can’t date a simple man.  They can’t handle me.  Not in a crazy kinda way, but I just have too much for simple men.  Simple men don’t understand me, which is why I chew them up and spit them out.  However let me be clear that simple is not a bad thing.. it’s just not what I need. 

So how do I find a complex man?  What kind of qualities do they possess?  Or is it just about finding one that can handle my complexity?  Ahhh, thoughts to ponder…


Single Girl’s Glossary

Chupacabra – a mythical creature of Mexican folklore. In dating terms, the PERFECT man (we all know he doesn’t exist). “E’s chupacabra is a tall, light skinned black man with green eyes, preferably a doctor.”

Hash tagging – this symbol (#) has become a new way to add a thought, or sum up a sentence, giving it more clarity, and often more wit. Most commonly found in tweets, Facebook status, and comments. “We missed you on Spinster Saturday #separationanxiety.” Or… “I got three bouquets of flowers at work today #mycoworkersthinkimawhore.”

Pickleback – instant hangover cure consisting of a shot of Jameson Whiskey and a shot of pickle juice

Raven – E’s alter dating ego

Single Woman Squalor – a state of complete disarray in a single woman’s living quarters. Hair on the bathroom floor, ice cream bowls in the sink, shopping bags on the couch. “My parents are coming to visit this weekend. I guess I should clean up the empty Girl Scout cookie boxes and cat hair so they don’t think I live in complete single woman squalor.”

Spinster – a single woman past the conventional age of marriage. It is not uncommon for a spinster to have had many short term romantic relationships and blame her singleness on her career. “Official Spinster diet: Lean Cuisine pizza, Diet Dr. Pepper, gum, Pirate’s Booty, bottle of wine, and a 4 pack of Slim Fast shakes #spinsterspokesmodel.”

Tease-o-saurus – a spinster’s favorite dinosaur. “I wouldn’t have sex with him #teaseosaurus.”

Tool – the semi-popular rock band from the 90’s.  If a man lists Tool as his favorite band, it is grounds for halting all communication.

Zone – the state of mind when a single woman is at the prime of her sexiness/fliratiousness/drunkedness.  Taken from the Kanye and Jay Z song “N*ggas in Paris.” #dontletmeintomyzone

This One’s for Mom

I’ve found since starting this blog that the phone calls I receive from my mother have become less frequent, as she uses my posts as a way of keeping up with my busy life.  So this update is for you, Mom:

Tonight I’m going to dinner with Mr. Schuester.  I really was nervous about going out with him at first because he shares the same exact profession as Peter Pan, but after getting to know him a little I found he has more depth.  Peter Pan had boyfriend characteristics and interests… Mr. Schuester has husband characteristics and interests.  I think it’s a maturity thing and may have to write a separate post after researching this idea further during our date tonight.

Red Bandit called to ask me out again, so we’re seeing a movie tomorrow night.  I was ready to give him the brush off, but a wise friend told me not to be so judgemental because RB is a little nerdy.  I should be grateful and open to the fact that an educated and well-rounded man wants to spend his time with me. 

Sunday I met an EH match for brunch and for the life of me, I cannot think of a clever name to give this fellow.  He is so utterly boring and unremarkable that he will remain “The One That Shall Not Be Named.”  I feel like a raging bitch because he’s already texted (a major no-no) to ask me out Friday night, but I have no interest in seeing him again.  Maybe it was just my Raven superpowers that he couldn’t resist, but the connection just wasn’t there for me. 

I didn’t see Greg Focker, RN at work all week but he texted me Friday night to tell me what bar he’d be at if I wanted to get a drink.  The only thing he saw on his 2002 model flip phone was a blank screen.

Spinster Saturday was an utter shit show, thanks to a bottle of Prosecco, Picklebacks, and a dozen beers.  We were armed and loaded with napkins with our phone numbers, but so far no response to our sly advances.  M gave out two napkins, and I have no idea what happened to mine.  I can’t find it in my pants pocket, so I’m assuming I gave it to some lucky gentleman at the bar.  New rule for Spinster Saturday – don’t get blackout drunk or you’ll end up giving your number to a leprechaun at Ri Ra’s.  And by leprechaun, I mean the alarmingly huge population of short men living in Charlotte.

Leprechaun hunting on Spinster Saturday


Back on the horse

I apologize for my dating and blogging sabbatical while in Nashvegas, but I’m proud to announce that E is back and better than ever.  I am however starting to feel that I’ve been on so many blind dates lately that I need a seeing eye dog.

Wednesday night I met the Red Bandit, who is an Eharmony match that I had high hopes for.  In his pictures he appears to be my chupacabra – a light skinned black man with green eyes.  I was very much let down to learn he is nothing more than German and Italian, but I think his mom made a run with the milk man at some point.  Named the Red Bandit because he works for Target and he showed up to our date in a RED sweater, he was an 8 until he opened his mouth.  NERD CENTRAL.  He spent at least an hour talking about his interests in the healing powers of reiki (google it) and Western medicine.  I am pretty talkative and can hold a conversation with almost anyone, but moving into hour 2 of this date, I wanted to stab acupuncture needles in my ears to end the pain.  I pushed through the rest of the date by focusing on his good looks and ignoring the dorky pitter patter coming from his mouth.  He’s already texted and called to try and arrange another date.  I’ll give him one more chance just so I can look at him.  He’s also been emailing M, so I’m hoping she’ll go out with Red Bandit simply to see if he owns any other colors in the ROYGBIV spectrum.

Tonight I met with another Eharmony match, and we shall call him Mr. Schuester.  I know some of my close friends will freak out because I dated a Mr. Schuester last year, and he is now named Peter Pan.  New Mr. Shue is also a high school social studies teacher and arrived to our date in an argyle sweater.  The new Shue writes and plays music and recently recorded an album.  I’m very much into music and would love to date someone that shares that passion.  He also competes in triathalons and we knew some mutual tri friends.  We set up date #2 before the night was over and he already texted me to say what a nice night he had.  Raven reeling em in like fish.  

I have a lunch date this weekend with ANOTHER Eharmony match.  I know what you’re thinking.  Lunch?  That’s the friend zone.  But I’m a busy lady and I can’t devote all my dinners to potential suitors.  A girl has to eat 3 balanced meals a day and why not let a stranger pay for it?

Tomorrow night M and I are going out for Spinster Saturday, armed with a stack of napkins with our names and numbers written on them.  We’ve got nothing to lose and lots of blogging to gain, so we will definitely be in our zone.  #dontletmeintomyzone


P.S.  Thanks for all the great feedback and support on this blog.  We love our readers!



What a Tripp – Part 3: The Final Chapter

Today we decided we’d had enough of Tripp’s douchebaggery and drafted a response to his carbon copy email.  We gave him a dose of his own medicine and sent the exact email at the exact same time.  For your viewing enjoyment:

Hi There,

I hope this message finds you doing very well. I’m certain a guy like you with such witty jokes gets a ton of correspondence back from that generic email you send to every match on EHarmony so I apologize in advance for adding to it. 

Unfortunately your transparently nonspecific message outweighs your sales pitch, but I had to take a moment to comment on your failed attempt at flattery. 

I’m assuming that by my “unique appearance” you mean you like my pictures. However, you must see a lot of “unique” girls on EHarmony. Perhaps if you spent a little more time reading a match’s profile, instead of just flipping through the pictures looking for a gorgeous, athletic woman you may find a little more success at online dating. Furthermore, what common interests do you think we share? Since nothing you mentioned in your email or that I can find on your profile leads me to believe that we have any interests that are the same. 

I hope you will accept my unsolicited corny joke as a way of saying how offensive and impersonal I found your email to be.

How is a man like the weather?
Nothing can be done to change either one of them.



The Games We Play

I just took my dog for a walk and was amazed at how he had no fear, went straight up to a giant American Mastiff, sniffed his ass, and then tried to hump him. Now granted, my dog is 30 pounds soaking wet and maybe a foot tall, so when he tried to mount the horse disguised as a dog, the only thing he reached was his head. But neither of them seemed to mind, and in fact, they both seemed rather content.

I only bring this up because I wish dating in the human world was as simple as dating in the dog world. No games, straight-forward, no questions of whether you like him or he likes you. The only girl I know who has mastered the “no games” flirting technique is our friend Cray Ray whose method is something like this: Guy is hot. Girl is hot. Hot girl wants hot guy. Hot girl gives hot guy napkin with phone number and they live happily ever after. Very similar to the unambiguous technique used by all other mammals. I, regrettably, do not have the chutzpa to attempt such a bold gesture, and am thereby left playing games that will inevitably drive you crazy.

I went out on Friday night with a couple of girlfriends for what was only going to be happy hour. I ended up meeting a guy, and happy hour turned into bar hopping and 3am salsa dancing. We had an amazing time, great conversation, and he was gorgeous! Sticking to our rule, I did nothing more than let him crash at my place so he didn’t have to drive home. We ended up staying up most of the night talking and he took an amazing picture off my balcony of my view of the city, which is why he’s been named Panorama.

Before Panorama left, he texted me the picture of my view so that I would have his number… then proceeded to text back and forth the next day. THEN NOTHING. For 2 days straight… NOTHING! If you like a girl, sniff her ass… if you don’t, show your teeth. But why the mind games? Why leave a text unanswered for 2 days? Especially after it seems like everything is going great?

I was about to jump out of my skin so I finally formed a cute and witty text to let him know I was still in the picture. He responded and seemed interested and flattered… but A. Why did it take so much effort to get a response? and B. Why am I still unsure of where things stand?

Out of all the guys I’ve met on this crazy spinster journey, this one is the only guy I’ve actually felt that instant connection that everyone talks about. I don’t know if it’s chemistry or butterflies or too many vodka sodas, but I like him so I’ll continue to play his foolish games… but let it be known, I’m damn competitive!


What a Tripp – Part 2

So just in case we weren’t sure that Tripp, 38 sends the exact same douchy email to every girl he finds attractive on EH, here is what I received tonight (And if you read What a Tripp by E, please feel free to skip to the end):

Hi There,

I hope this message finds you doing very well. I’m certain a girl with a great profile that is as attractive as you are gets a ton of correspondence every day so I apologize in advance for adding to it.

However, I was hoping for the opportunity to get to know you better. I think that we share some common interests and you look like a lot of fun. So let me give you my very best sales pitch on me. I’m a really nice guy (I know, what else would I say, right?). I make a good living running my own business. My house stays clean and my grass gets cut. I play rec league basketball, softball and soccer to vent some aggression and I snowboard in the winter just for fun. I also try to lift weights regularly so that I can avoid talking about the good shape that I used to be in.

And that’s about it. Oh, if sense of humor is high on your list, my friends seem to enjoy my comedic stylings. So maybe there is another reason for the “Yes, I think I will write him back” side of your page. For example:

Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?

Fo’ drizzle 😉 

Anyway . . . . I hope that you will accept that unsolicited corny joke as my way of saying how unique you appear at first glance and that I’d like to know more.

Sincerely Tripp

Not a single word changed or different.  No wonder you’re 38 and single Tripp… if you treat every woman as if she’s the exact same, you either have mommy issues or you’re just a tool.  Sorry Snoop, not interested in being just another number… good luck with the next girl.


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