Though LA’s population runs close to 4 million, I used to (virtually) bump into a lot of the same dudes across these apps, some of whom I’d already dated, some of whom I went to high school or college with, some of whom just kept popping up, over and over and over again.
There’s a special kinship shared with the ones I’d already dated; we’d greet each other with an ironic yet well-intentioned —the jaded, twenty-first century language of doomed romance. I still don’t feel at liberty to rehash all the nitty gritty.
To serve, drizzle bowls of soup with chive fennel oil and top with fresh corn, minced fennel bulb, fennel fronds, flaky sea salt, and freshly cracked pepper.Don’t deny it, single ladies and men: You actively use one or five online dating apps. We’re also not sure whether this Ok Cupid user actually likes chicken. Not only has she Photoshopped herself eating a burrito in front of a beautiful sunset, but she’s also direct about her intentions. () Dusty probably wasn’t getting a lot matches based on his name alone, so he had to change up the game.As of today, I am officially using none of said apps—dating app fatigue (and general disgust) is real. It felt too risky to write about strangers who might one day find themselves exposed, and be hurt or angry—many of the men I’ve dated were regular visitors to K&C or its associated social media properties.But at the same time, I’m tired of having to keep such a significant part of my life from all of you.Which, of course, makes me doubly and triply consider the choice to write about this at all here.
But I’m tired of holding back this part of my life, tired of looking forward to the day when I’m stably coupled or married just so that I can write about the malaise of my single lady era.There are men to protect and egos to shelter—my own included.Instead, I will draw for you a faint outline of my most recent debacle, the odds and ends of seeking partnership.I want to tell you all the juicy stories, all the fumbles, all the fails, all the ridiculous first dates and the bizarre first kisses.I want you to know why it’s been two years, five months, and three days.Brought together with the creaminess of macadamia nut milk, coriander, and olive oil sautéed onion, it’s a perfect soup for the season. Now that we’ve settled in with our sunny bowls of corn and fennel chowder, let’s get back to the stickier subject of my singledom, and the related problem of writing-while-single (or blogging-while-single, if you will).