I've never petted a tiger, run a Tough Mudder, taken a bathroom/gym selfie or been to Machu Picchu. OKCupid admins are bound to shut me down at any minute.
I don't do selfies. Ever. Sorry.
I've got your/you're, then/than and its/it's on lockdown. Not so much which/that.
I tend to dream of plane crashes, wildly proportioned architecture, invasions and other sorts of engrossing calamity.
There are definitely sharks in every body of water bigger than a bathtub, and they're definitely trying to snatch you by the feet just as you're climbing out.
There's other stuff I care about. Big, important things that span continents and centuries. I just can't think of any right now. Ask again later.
In the meantime, I'll save us the time and energy of the inevitable question everyone seems to ask: "What are you looking for on here?"
A long litany of OKC encounters have impressed upon me the importance of not seeking out any specific thing. I used to. There have been times, for example, when I looked for something purely physical. There have been times when I looked for someone to spend "all" my time around. There have been times when I looked for folks to just do fun things with. What's made itself clear since starting this whole online dating fiasco is that preconceptions just don't work. Period.
So now, each new conversation is a blank slate. Would it be great to have a clothes-shreddingly torrid affair? If that's what feels right, sure. Would it be great to make a fabulous new friend who brightens my life in innumerable ways? Absolutely. Would it be great to meet someone exciting to just spend some time with and get to know? No doubt. Would it be great to find The One and make a whole bunch of the most brilliant and staggeringly beautiful babies the world has ever seen? Of course it would.
Any and all outcomes would each be great in their own way. But I don't -- and won't -- push deliberately toward any of them. We meet. I talk. You talk. I laugh. You laugh. From there it's one moment to the next, and wherever things end up, great, it'll be a blast when we get there.
2. Comfort eerily bordering on familiarity.
3. "Your photos don't do you justice."
And this paddle game.
The ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need.
And this remote control.
The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need.
And these matches.
The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control, and the paddle ball.
And this lamp.
The ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote control, and the lamp, and that's all I need. I don't need one other thing. Not one.
I need this chair.
The paddle game and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches for sure.
And then there's that scene from Louie where Liz explains that the reason he gets so anxious at the roof's edge is that, deep down, part of him wants to jump. Holy fuck.
... you recognize my "Six Things"
... your sexting game is on point. Seriously.
... you won't get too miffed when I correct people for saying "to try and" or "the data is"
... our babies would make everyone jealous. Not that I necessarily want you to give me babies. It's just good to know we'd churn out some awe-inspiring offspring.