7 Things That You Should Never Say On A First Date


Yes, all of these things were said to me on various first dates. Yes, I went on a second date with one of these fine suitors. Yes, I’m still embarrassed about it.tumblr_m94elwO2vx1qfgzzvo1_500

“So, I was thinking, maybe we could go back to my house after this and drink with my roommates. You know, save a little money.” GOODBYE SIR.

“Nah, I didn’t go to college. I’M SMART THOUGH!”  Okay, well I wasn’t questioning your intelligence until after you said that last bit.

“I hope my friends didn’t smoke all of my weed while we were gone.”…………………OKAY.

“Oh, no I don’t drink beer. I’ll have a hard cider.” No.

“Um, I’ll just go get myself a drink.” (I actually dropped this line, after my date ordered a refill for himself from the waiter)

“I know this really great happy hour place called ‘The Pig ‘n Whistle.’ My boy is a bartender there.” Wow, that sounds like a really lovely establishment! I can’t wait to hang out wit u nd ur boiiz.

“Could you tell me what the score of the basketball game is so that I can stop trying to read it in the reflection over your shoulder?”Annnnnnnnnnd I’m out.

A Very X-Rated Xmas

Christmas tree with presents and fireplace with stockings

Blame it on the Merlot, or blame it on the fact that my head is permanently in the gutter, but I couldn’t help but notice how dirty the act of decorating a Christmas tree actually sounds if you close your eyes (or in my case, zone out because you tend to break more ornaments than you hang up and opt for drinking and directing instead). ‘Tis the season to be inappropriate!

Christmas tree with presents and fireplace with stockings

Image courtesy of Stupic.com 

“No no, take that out of there and move it down a bit.”

“I said you’ve already got the top half covered! Move down!”

“Al wants a big one in the bottom.”

“Mmmhm right there. Yeah, perfect!”

“What about the small ones?? If you always use big ones then there’s no room for the small ones.”

“Why do I feel like I’m the only one participating?”

“Wait, what are we going to do with all of these balls??”

“Phew. Glad that’s over.”

Talk Tinder To Me

PicMonkey Collage

Greetings blog-iverse!

It’s been far too long. The transition into big-girl life has been a bit of a bumpy ride, between every slept-through alarm, spilled coffee, and missed train—on a good week— but I’d say that I’m finally getting the hang of it.

There are many perks of working in a small office aside from not having to share a refrigerator with a multitude of intimidating higher-ups and thus, living in fear of being the intern who ate their lunch (Is this my Chobani? I can’t remember…what flavor did I bring today? Did I put it next to that fat-free, sugar-free, low-carb water bottle? Screw it…I’ll just starve).

For starters- there are far fewer people there to judge you during morning rituals, which lately have consisted of a moment of silence in front of my portable fan to mourn yet another bouncy blow-out turned sweaty pony tail during the heat wave.

The small office setting also breeds fast friendships, one of which has proven to be both detrimental to my overall office productivity and dear to my heart.

James and I were destined to be friends. Between our shared sense of style, sarcasm, and love of all things Carrie Bradshaw, I’d have to say we are a match made in New York City heaven, despite our New Jersey mailing addresses (we also share an empire state of mind that our bank accounts have yet to catch up with).

While I’d categorize both of us as “romantics,” James is definitely more proactive in his pursuit of “the one” (and by proactive I mean active on over 5 different online dating platforms). He’s constantly scolding me about my lack of online-dating presence, and after a few five dollar cosmos…I caved.

“Maybe James is right. Maybe the love of my life is just one Tinder swipe away,” I thought, as I re-downloaded the app, and gave it another go.

I mean…why not?


Here is why not. So there you have it. It’s been real, my fellow Tinderians—in a not-at-all kind of way. Consider this blog post to be my official Tinder-resignation letter.

Prince Charming, if you’re reading this, don’t be discouraged—I’m sure you’ll find me in a bar somewhere!

To Tinder or Not To Tinder…

Since I’m relatively new to the blogging game, I figured I’d allow my first post to showcase who I really am: a total weirdo/sucker for social media.  At 22 years old, I’ve always considered the foreign realm of online dating to be…well…a little bit weird.  Okay, super weird, especially if you’re under the age of forty five, which explains my involuntary brow raise when a friend of mine told me that I needed to get on this new app called Tinder (which is apparently sweeping the Rutgers campus).  Forever a skeptic, I rolled my eyes as she skipped around hugging her IPad, gloating over all of her new “matches,” but I have to admit…I was totally interested.

A self proclaimed “fun way to break the ice,” Tinder uses your location and Facebook information to create a list of potential suitors, complete with four to five display photos of their choice.  It gets better: when the image of said PS (potential suitor) pops up on your screen, you have the option to either “like” or “dislike.”  Sounds like a sure-fire way to bury someone’s self confidence six feet under, right?  Wrong!  Tinder only tells PS that you “like” them if he or she has already “liked” your account as well.  When the magic happens, Tinder informs you that “It’s A Match!” and establishes an IMessage-esque conversation box for you and PS to in engage in witty banter and fall in love.

My take on Digital Cupid?  I’m not sure I’m buying it.  As a member of the Catfish generation, I’m sure I speak for must of us when I say that relationships formed on social media networks are usually disasters waiting to happen.  However, when I (reluctantly) signed up, I realized that half of my PS list is made up of Rutgers students that I already know, or at least know of.  I’m sure that this is because I limited my matches to a ten-mile radius, but in this instance, it seems like a pretty harmless way to talk to cute boys that I’ve seen around but never actually met (tall boy from Queens last night, I’m looking at you).

If nothing else, Tinder provides us with yet another distraction from our daily tasks, and brings social media stalking to an all new high (as if I’m going to have a conversation with you without stalking your Facebook, Instagram, and any other outlet I can stalk while remaining incognito).  None the less, it gives us the ultimate opportunity to be shallow, and who doesn’t love that?