Okay – so I don’t have an OK Cupid profile – but, some of my friends do. And through their torrid love affairs, I feel like I know enough about it to be a semi-expert on the subject. This is mostly because my friends are stupid, and I learn from their mistakes.
Recently, my roommate met a guy on OK Cupid – hung out with him a few times and then made the decision that she was going to drive 4 hours to spend 4th of July weekend with him and his family in a cabin in the woods. I was the only one that supported this decision because, well – if anything – she would come back with an excellent story that we could dissect over our vodka dinners (that’s when you drink vodka instead of eating an actual meal and then order something like chicken fingers or taco bell afterwards so that you don’t wake up hungover and can make it to work on time the next day).
Anyway – I WAS in support of this decision except for the fact that she didn’t tell us where she was going, when she was coming back, or that she wasn’t going to have service the entire time. I swear I was like a mom whose kid just went on their very first sleepover. I called her twice a day and every time it went straight to voicemail. After the third day we all just started to assume that she was dead and started auctioning off her things that were worth something. Like her blu-ray player and her nail polish collection.
The good news (or bad, depending on whether or not you were the one to inherit her room – sorry, Jake) is that she came back the day before we agreed that we were going to go to the police. Even though going to the police would have been tough since we had no idea where she was.
Everyone was pissed that she wasn’t more responsible and that she made no effort to contact us. But when she came back – we knew that she was in love. So we forgave her.
In honor of her good fortune and lack of dying in a textbook horror movie scenario – I decided that I was going to fill out my very own OK Cupid Profile – not online, because I’m not as desperate as she is, but right here. You’re welcome.
My self-summary: a little overdramatic at times but in the most lovable way.
What I’m doing with my life: writing about weddings, filling up a Smart Water bottle with tap water, convincing my family I have my shit together, refusing to pay my 4 (maybe 5.. 6?) parking tickets, day dreaming about places I’ve never been.
I’m really good at: parallel parking, eating chipotle, not folding my laundry, dating people who are not dating me, eating an entire jar of bread and butter pickles in one sitting, contradicting myself, peer pressuring my friends, picking brunch places, interrupting people and sharing.
The first thing people usually notice about me: How loud I am – people usually hear me before they see me.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music and food:
A) Shows: anything that can keep my attention for longer than one season.
B) Books: the last enchantments by charles finch.
C) Music: blink 182 and hootie & the blowfish.
D) Food: all of it. except olives.
The six things I could never do without: the beach, wine, my DVR, candles, microwaveable rice, g-chat, coffee. that’s 7 – but whatever – i’m needy.
I spend a lot of time thinking about: how to escape a serial killer if the situation should arise, if people still use the word ‘poser’, why overalls made a style comeback, how 3D printers work, how to annoy my roommate Kevin with the least amount of energy, teleporting and trying to find a talent.
On a typical Friday night I am:
- At the pour house with my friends & family taking shots of fireball
- In my cousins back yard talking about making s’mores but never actually making them
- In my bed watching The Devil Wears Prada
- Convincing bouncers not to kick my brother out of the view house.
- Sometimes, all of the above in one night
The most private thing I’m willing to admit: I cry every time I hear Austin by Blake Shelton and I have no idea how most things work.
I’m looking for: Someone who can make me laugh. Someone that my cousins won’t immediately hate. Someone who knows not to talk during The Bachelorette. Someone who can make a good pot of coffee.
You should message me if: you know how to put a duvet on a comforter; you have a man bun; you have read more than 5 books in the past year; you don’t mind an adorable puppy sleeping in the bed; you’re not a fucking serial killer.
can’t wait for all the prospects to be flooding my inbox,