No One Likes You: The Story of My College Dating Career Told Using Exact Quotes By My Parents

Some background:

It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date. (If you don’t believe me, read THIS post to find out why, and this one to see why it’s going to be even longer until I get another one.) This is perfectly OK with me, partly because I grew up in a post-feminist society and I don’t need a man to complete me and stuff, but mostly because my life is so nutso right now that the very idea of having a social life is enough to give me stress dreams. My parents also have stress dreams, in which I die sad, alone, and childless.

P.S.: This is only a list in the loosest sense, but I recently came to the conclusion that there’s a distinct possibility that it’s not that I like lists– it’s that I hate complete sentences. No, wait. I totally like lists AND hate complete sentences. Ok, from the top:

Freshman year, after I decide to try a long-distance relationship: “But don’t you want to date NEW boys? Better boys? COLLEGE boys?”

Two weeks later, when I dump that boyfriend for another long-distance relationship: “But… but I thought you LIKED Derek. We liked Derek. Why aren’t you with Derek anymore? Who is this David person and why do you find him appealing?”

January, when the breakup inevitably comes: “I think you made a really smart decision. You can do the single thing for a while! Date! And have fun! Don’t tell me you hate fun. No one hates fun.”

March, when I accidentally go on a date with a guy 15 years older than me: “I thought you were going boyfriend-free for a bit? And why do you keep dating Asians? Do you… do you have some kind of strange fetish for Asian men?”

October of sophomore year, no dates: “Why don’t you see anyone any more? I just worry you don’t have any friends and that you’re going to die alone, surrounded by cats. No, surrounded by cats is still alone. Cats will eat their owners, you know.”

March of sophomore year, when I somehow land six different dates. (It was totally weird. I made a chart to illustrate it because I thought such a strange occurrence needed to be recorded and studied.): “I don’t think any of these guys sound like your type. You were less stressed when you were single. You know what it is? You pierced your nose and now everyone thinks you’re a loose woman. A loose woman!”

Early May, the beginning of summer: “Did you know that softball players have a reputation for being lesbians? I just found that out. Did you see a lot of that while you were playing in high school? Oh my God, you played softball in high school…”

Late June, while I’m interning in D.C.: “Have you met any nice, young Republican boys out there? Been on any nice, young Republican dates? No? How about liberal dates? Any hippy-dippy liberal dates? I suppose if you’re going on groovy hippy-dippy dates, you could take a girl. I won’t ask, you don’t have to tell, Rachel Maddow.”

Early September, after I’ve just refused their assistance finding a boyfriend, and it’s been revealed that I own a poster of a curvaceous taxi driver*: “Oh. Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. That reminds me: I keep reading comments from your friends on Facebook, and this girl keeps making jokes about going on dates with you. We’ve also noticed that your computer wallpaper is always different close-ups of Tina Fey’s face. Well, yes, you did go through a David Bowie phase, that’s true.”

(*My roommate is dressing up that way for Halloween, and she thought it would be funny to stick the packaging on my door. My parents are of a different school of thought. Also, when I write “curvaceous”, read “loose woman”, as my mom would say.)

Last week’s phone call: “What is going on with your pictures in the school paper? You look like one of the wives in Mad Men. No, I don’t think you look like a fancy prostitute. I wouldn’t use the word “fancy”. Your father and I are in a crowded bar, and he’s showing the pictures to everyone. Brooks is here. Remember Brooks? I always thought you should date him. He was valedictorian, you know. And he owns a chinchilla. OSU is winning!”

This evening’s phone call: “Are you having boy trouble? No? Are you having… girl trouble? No? Oh, thank God. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, and we’d still love you. But why aren’t you dating? Do you just hide in your room all the time? Why doesn’t anyone like you?”

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6 comments

  1. Michelle starke

    haha i just wanna say that your dating blog is HILARIOUS. this is so you. and I could just see you saying this. =P

  2. mom

    When a person is a witty and intelligent writer, she probably turned out that way because her witty and intelligent parents encouraged that. Just sayin’.

    • summarhere

      Hi, Mom. You can’t comment on my web content class blog under the name “mom”. Now nobody will think I’m cool. (But thanks for being witty, intelligent, and encouraging. Also, corny.)

  3. The nearest vagina

    Haha, i probably didn’t help with all my ‘nearest vagina’ comments….but really, it’s ok, everyone thought i was a lesbian too. now, i’m just a heathen hippy with a fetish for older men, i guess….me gusta mucho this website, reminds me of the icky but lovely (because i was with you) high school days…

  4. Pingback: Craig’s List « Listful Thinking

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