Match.com

It's early morning right now but I can't sleep. In fact I haven't felt more awake in awhile. I'm a little nervous about posting this since I've added tons of people on Facebook who may see this now, but maybe that's also a good thing, maybe they'll read all these posts and understand me a little bit better. I sometimes feel that I allow my singleness to overwhelm and discourage me more than I should, but I also justify that it's a little hard not to when you're almost twenty and you've still never been on a date. I want to join in on my friend's conversations about boy problems and relationship problems instead of sitting there awkwardly trying to make sure my lack of experience isn't blatantly obvious to everyone around me. I don't want Netflix and John Hughes movies to be the only time I experience any romance. It sucks, and I hate it, but I find myself incapable of changing it. So I guess my sisters decided to give it a try instead.

I guess you know you've drunk called your oldest sister one too many times when she gets tired of your drunk ass complaining about being lonely and then makes you an online dating profile, Even worse when she keeps sending you pictures of guys on there and asking your opinion. Admittedly this is all my fault, I've done this to myself in retrospect. Why I then decided that my other sister needed to get involved in this, I'm not really sure. Maybe I felt that I was a mix of their traits and maybe I was harboring some hope that their combined effort would find me my Sporto to my Basket Case. (I've obliviously watched The Breakfast Club one too many times.) Problem is I'm a crazy person who while witty and hysterical, I'm also a lot of personality to put it a good way. Slightly off putting to some ya know.

Anyway there I now an electronic page about me showing up on this dating site that my sister's are trying to get me to talk to the guys they've picked out and I find that I just can't. I'm terrified. I'm more scared than I was zip lining or any other activity where my feet weren't on the ground. I'm scared of finally finding a great guy and then I'm just not enough for him. I'm terrified of not being in control. I'm scared that I'll learn to depend on this person and then one day they just won't be there anymore. I'm scared that my inexperience wards people off. I'm afraid of everything because I've experienced nothing. Being single is what I'm used to. Not to brag but I'm going on a twenty year streak so I think I'm getting really good at it. I'm terrified of being with someone, but I'm even more terrified of being alone.

I like to act like being single doesn't bother me but it does, I want someone to look at me like the stars are hung in my eyes. I want someone to dance in the car with me and sing along to the radio with. I want someone to not just tolerate my weirdness but embrace it. I want a lot, but I don't think I'm asking for much. I feel like I'm starting to sound like drunk me, getting a little too emotional for normal me, although I promise I am one-hundred percent sober just tired.

I guess I just really want someone to love me as much as I love ice-cream. Ice-cream is always there. It never abandons you. It never hurts you. It doesn't fight with you. Ice-cream makes you happy. It doesn't expect you to change. Ice-cream doesn't judge you. It won't go talk to other girls or cheat on you, Ice-cream is the real MVP.

I want a boyfriend who loves me and that I love, but he has to understand that I will always love ice-cream more.

#Tinder

Oh lordly, maybe it feels weird for you to be seeing one of these again, and boy does it feel weird writing one again. It's been seven months since I last posted!! A lot has changed, college, campus life, etc, etc. But guess what hasn't?! You're favorite here is still single (sometimes painfully so), but new experiences call for new posts I think. College is filled with tons of new people! Tons of possible love interests! Lol wait, let's think of who we're talking about here! I wouldn't be posting if I had a single love interest. Let's swing back into it shall we? I'd swipe right for me!

#Tinder

Going to college came with high expectations, I was always told that high school boys just didn't understand or appreciate me but college would be different. I was told the people there would appreciate my sharp wit and fast tongue more, that boys would be attracted to me. College kind of became more of a disappointment of every passing week without a single guy expressing an interest in me. I thought that maybe I just was too awkward in person at first glance, so I finally caved in and set up a Tinder account like many of my peers. What a roller coaster that turned out to be!

I set my up my account with my senior photos (my only professional photos taken of me, and the only photos I have where I'm not making a stupid face), I set my age range to 18-23 for the app to find me potential matches, and I set the distance for four miles (no way I was going to be walking all over the campus for a Tinder match!). For those of you not familiar with Tinder it's an app that shows you pictures of people in your area, you have the choice of swiping left at their picture (meaning you aren't interested) or right (matching you if you both swiped right for each other). Tinder started off great for me, I was getting matches left and right! And if I'm being honest most of the conversations were my first time talking to a guy who wasn't just a friend, considering the only guy's number in my phone is my best friend who I've known since sixth grade, I didn't know how this whole "flirting" thing worked. I should have attached pictures but please enjoy these conversation tid-bits that occurred over Tinder.

Boy: "Hey beautiful what are you doing tonight?"
Me: "Nothing, just hanging out. What kind of dog is that in your picture? My dog looks like a dingo!"
(Boy never responded)

Boy 2: Hey (October)
(I don't respond)
Boy 2: You wanna hang (November)
(I don't respond)
Boy 2: Or Nah? (December 2)
(I don't respond)
Boy 2: You're rude (December 30)

Boy 3: You should come over
Me: It's raining
Boy 3: I have a car
Me: ... I have a paper to write and print
Boy 3: You can use my printer
Me: It's midnight I have class tomorrow
Boy 3: I'll make sure you wake up and take you there
(I don't respond)

Me; How many tries did it take you to get that levitating picture?
Boy 4: One, I'm just that good
Me: I feel like you're lying, but it's a cool photo
Boy 4: I'm not lying, I'm really impressive. Only one take
Me: I mean even having to take it 200 times would still be impressive to get the shot but ok
(Boy 4 never responds)

I never met any of the guys I talked to on Tinder in real life, I was tempted to many times, but always weary in the end. I didn't know how I would behave around them in person. Do you tell a person that you've never been on a date before? Do I tell you these things? Is it weird if I do? How do you say no you don't want to go to their dorm room the first time you meet??

Tinder quickly switched from an app for me to potentially find a date to a good app where people just told me I was pretty. Because who doesn't want 150 guys telling you that you're beautiful? It was nice to know that while my conversations with these guys would never go anyway, but also was comforting knowing that my appearance is not why I'm single.

Tinder was great for me to start talking to random people and it was a lot of fun, but you can only be asked for nudes so many times before you just have to delete the app.... However, I am trying to get my grandmother to make one!!!!

Pringle Cans

Whenever I feel like I'm ready to delete this blog I get a sudden burst of inspiration. While the burst tend to be short lived, seeing that I have thirteen unfinished drafts, I am going to try my best and complete this one. This post is about one of the most traumitizing events in my life, but also a really great story. While it's not actually a reason why I'm single, I'm posting it because someone should have dated me out of pity by now after hearing this.

Reason 4: #ThePringlesIncident

     I AM PRETTY YOUNG IN THIS STORY, so please imagine me slightly shorter and a little more pathetic. This is a time in my life where I've suffered from a terrible thing, I had a really bad habit of sucking my thumb. It may seem like a small thing that children grow out of it, but not me. My thumbsucking had gotten so bad that I was able to fit an Oreo between my two front teeth because the constant thumb sucking was pushing them forward and apart. My parents like most  put in this position were becoming more concerned by the day. I'm sure that there was a deep fear inside of them that their daughter would become a freak of nature more so than she already was. So they out their heads together and made a plan.

     Their first attempt, and I stress first since it was only the beginning of this ordeal, was to put hot sauce on my thumbs. Hey hoped that the sauce would discourage what ever will I had in me to suck my thumbs. My poor parents. Being the crazy freak of nature that I've always been I enjoy the hot sauce. I liked having to put on my thumbs. In actuality I think it probably encouraged the thumb sucking. My parents had to go back to square one. This actually was probably a lot harder than it sounds, trying to find a way for their child to stop. Just like a heroin addict and he could not seem to kick what most kids outgrew in a couple months. To me thumbsucking was a therapeutic necessity. And I fought harder than Amy Winehouse going to rehab, because to me thumbsucking was good.

     I've always been a stubborn person by nature, this is my new development now there's been a part of who I am forever. So tiny me fought my parents through every tactic they had up their sleeve. I felt victorious. Surely they had to be wearing down by now. I was positive that they were just accept the idea that I would continue to suck my thumb if I wanted to and they couldn't stop me. I underestimated my parents. I underestimated stimated how much they wanted me to stop.

     I'm not positive on the details, but my mom is either working at the school or her friend was working at the school and just told her. Anyway, my mom's friend worked with the special needs students. While talking to my mother she revealed that they sometimes put Pringles cans on the arms of kids to avoid them hurting themselves, as the can didn't let you bend your elbow. And didn't that idea just stick with my mother.

     Later that day I'm sure I was oblivious I was imagining myself Victorius at that point, I thought the end of the war was near, and I was winning. My mother and father came home from work as usual, I felt prepared for anything that they were about to throw at me. Not one part of me in my tiny body and I think that what was about to happen was even a possibility.

      That evening my mother took two Pringles cans remove the top and the bottom so they were just holler tubes. She then called me over and attach the Pringles tubes to my arms with duct tape. I don't remember quiet when the feeling of defeat washed over me, but I have a bed pretty soon. I don't know if you know what child flailing their arms with Pringles cans looks like, but it was pretty pathetic. I desperately try to get the kids off my arms, but I couldn't bend a one arm to reach the tape on the other. When I defiantly tried to suck my thumb despite the Pringle can my mouth was greeted only by the taste of my upper arm. It was an impossible feet. Victory, something that had been so close, was now light years away. My parents had won, me the loser with buck teeth and Pringles cans.

     I think elbows are the most unappreciated part of the human body. Without them you can't drink,
you can't eat, and you definitely cannot suck your thumb.

GIFTS

Hey I'm back, and really terrible at being consistent with writing. I've found that I can only write well about being single if I'm either really angry or sad about actually being single so... On the bright side I will probably be posting very often in these upcoming weeks so YAY SHANNONS FEELING TERRIBLE EMOTIONS THAT LEAD TO INTERESTING BLOG POSTS! I actually like posting so I can't really complain I guess.

It's February now and that means my school is abuzz with the one love filled and gift giving holiday that I hate. Don't get me wrong, it's a great concept just terrible execution. A holiday used to single out and depress every single single person more than we already are. Why can't this day be about loving yourself? Recognizing that you are an amazing person, who doesn't need another person to give you gifts to tell you that you are amazing. You should be able to love yourself without needing reassurance from others. I celebrate Valentine's Day by buying myself gifts, mainly Lindor truffles because that stuff is like crack. And maybe Valentine's Day is great if you're in a relationship, but BUT I DONT KNOW WHAT THATS LIKE SO I CANT TALK ABOUT THAT OR HOW GREAT GETTING GIFTS FROM A BOYFRIEND IS!  But I do know about gifts and gift giving, and the act of gifting is exactly why I am single.

Reason #3: Godess of Gifting

     I take gifts seriously, a little too seriously. I will spend hours searching for your perfect gift and I have no shame in asking for money if I start to run out because giving gifts for me is a competition, one that I always win at. Once I've bought your perfect gift(s) I anxiously await until whatever holiday or event comes to watch your face. Specifically the face where you are completely in awe of my gift but sudden realization that your gift doesn't compare. But you shouldn't feel bad about it, because I knew when I bought these presents that no one would be able to out do me. I prepared myself for the last minute gifts that I'd be getting weeks before. Not that everyone else is bad grifters, but because I can never think of any ideas for myself, my brain is too full with gift ideas for other people that I don't matter anymore. So I basically have set the competition up where you have no choice but to lose. And I'd apologize about that but if you ever get a gift from me, you've already got your prize for losing, as a winner I get the peace of mind that I've won.

     I'm an extremely competitive person, I hate to lose, and when I do I spiral into a terrible depression filled with self hate because I suck as a person. Im like Monica from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. but without the OCD. I just hate losing, it kills me inside. And maybe gifts don't matter, but for me they do, for me it's a way to show the people that I care about that yes I did remember that you mentioned how much you love cooking outdoors, because SURPRISE DAD HAPPY FATHERS DAY I GOT YOU A MEAT SMOKER! I also get a personal high from gift shopping, holiday shopping for some people is stressful and time consuming, but not me. I get excited to go to the mall and deal with all the craziness, because I know that I've nailed your present, and you're going to LOVE IT. The moment I find your gift is one of the best highs that I get, I become just as excited with buying your gift as you do actually receiving it.

     So I am a winner and I am a gifter, and that makes me single because ain't no guy gonna put up with my shit. I will not tell you what I want, because I do not know. And I will not help you, because I'm focused on winning and buying you a present that will either blow your mind or make you tear up at its sentimentality! I am single because I take gifts too seriously, and honestly you could probably say it's pathetic that I make gifting a competition, but I can't help it and if that makes me undateable  so be it, at least I give amazing presents that people love.

In case you were wondering, I did slay at Christmas this year too. I won, just like I thought I would. Good Job Self, you've done it again.

     I'm back!! I'm honestly going to try and update once a week, but unfortunately I suffer from a debilitating condition that has postponed my updating this blog this week. The doctors call it procrastination, I fear that it might be fatal. I've been afflicted with it since I was seven, my first year competing in the school science fair. It quickly became an issue once I finished my project the night before and still won a first place ribbon. The ailment continued for three more years, with three more blue ribbons, until fourth grade when I tried to treat my disease by spending two weeks on my science fair project. Two weeks that earned me the inferior second place red ribbon. Unfortunately that was the last time I ever tried to treat the condition. However, it does become a situation that can get out of control, so please accept this apology and I will get to why You're really reading this blog. Without further ado, here is reason #2.

#Reason 2: Iugah!

(photos do not belong to me, all credit goes to the original owners whomever they are)

     You know that moment when you accidentally bump into a cute guy in the middle of the hallway, then you both make eye contact and somehow you manage to pull off a totally nonchalant/cute look?
Neither do I. In fact the beginning of that question has actually happened to me multiple times but the ending couldn't be further from the truth. Let me continue this post with some real life stories of how cute boys have run into yours truly, and how I've failed terribly at pulling off any form of normality.

     Situation 1: Shannon is briskly walking down the hall to get to last period because that school is too freakin' big to walk slowly AND be on time. So I'm at the end of the hallway and am about to turn left when BAM cute guy cuts me off. What do I do? Well make eye contact of course. That wouldn't be a problem if a face similar to this wasn't accompanying the eye contact.

     It seems that my face rejects any idea of even remotely trying to look cute and just goes with the most unattractive thing it can conjure up in two seconds. I mean who needs a chastity belt when you can pull this face out of nowhere in less than two seconds? Needless to say Shannon did not ever see this boy again, to be honest he probably started taking a different route to get to his last class. Oh well it's not like this was a solitary occurrence.

     Situation 2: ROLE REVERSSAL! So I'm walking down the hallway minding my own business when a kid exiting a classroom runs into ME. (I feel like it's important to bring up that I was not the reason that this happened this time, I was just the reason why no one dates me)  Average looking kid bumps into me, apologizes while picking up the book I dropped, and is met with this beautiful face:

     As if my terrifying face wasn't enough to scare little Timmy away, my vocal cords decide to make an appearance and chime in with a terrified "MEEERRREEEP!" 

     I'm beginning to think that my body either hates me or just wants to be single forever and die alone. 

BUT wait there's more, events always come in three's, even the terrible ones.

     Situation 3: I would like to pretend that this has only happened three times, but unfortunately I have become a human magnet by drawing people to run into me and the switching poles really quickly and repelling them far far away. Can you guess where this one takes place? If you guessed anything other than my school hallway, I am very worried for you and you should probably go see a doctor because there's something wrong with you. Of course it's a hallway! Where else would I find these perfectly nice guys to run into and terrify, Lord knows they aren't coming around my house.

On to this unfortunate event we can see me walking down the hallway when cute guy pops out of his classroom. My friend is unfazed and stops to let boy move around, unfortunately the Hotness Monster makes eye contact with myself first before stepping around friend. The Hotness Monster moves to the side to be polite while offering an apologetic and sweet smile. This is the look of apology and thanks he gets from me in return:

     Yes disgust, I have no idea why either, but guess who decides to be vocal again? (Me of course because i'm pretty sure that being single my whole life has become a job, I can't honestly imagine anyone being THIS uneatable without it being some sort of job) I actually took a couple steps before my brain processed what strand of verbal diarrhea slipped out of my mouth. Turns out in one of my most venomous and disgusted voices I could produce a strand of vowels and constants run out like this, "Iugah!"  Poor boy walked away confused as to what he did wrong to deserve that response, while my friend laughs at me and I wonder why my body hates me so much.

     I've wondered why I was single before, but after writing this I'm not even sure how people ever talk or befriend me. Only two things are certain, my face and voice hate me, and I'm still single.
Maybe I should join a convent....

The Beginning: Reason #1

Quick Introduction: I'm eighteen, I have a pretty good life, and for the most part I'm a happy person. I get good grades, I have nice friends, I have a killer sense of humor and my wit is very sharp. I am also a genuinely nice person, yet here I am, eighteen and single. Not only am I single, I've actually never been on a date. It's sad and true. I have never even been asked out, pretty sure I've never even been considered as a date by a guy. As an eighteen year-old, you can probably imagine how humiliated I feel because of my constant singleness.

In no way am I a perfect person, I'm not nor will I ever be a size two, I am also short with the added bonus of a young face, so not only do I have the height of a fourteen year-old but also a similar face shape. All these are probably detrimental to my non existent dating life. However, I refuse to accept that I'm single because "I'm not trying hard enough", or "too picky", or my favorite "not making finding a boyfriend a priority." Thank you online quizzes and magazines for your insight and unhelpfulness. I appreciate feeling like I'm defective, really. I hate that I do feel like I have something wrong with me because I'm still single, but I love myself enough to not want to change myself as a person just to get a boyfriend.

And while I continue to reject the reasons stated above as legitimate reasons, there are definitely reasons I am in fact single. Reasons uniquely mine and unfortunately all true. My goal? To provide entertainment while also analyzing my life and the quirks about myself that have contributed to where I am today. I don't know what to expect to get out of this, maybe I can figure out how to be more socially appealing, or maybe I help others understand that they shouldn't have to change who they are for a relationship, or maybe this blog goes up in flames and I realize I should not be a blogger. Who knows?

Without any more babble here is reason #1; Hiccups.
Everyone has cute, small hiccups, that gasp for air and are mildly entertaining to those around. These are not one of the reasons. No, the hiccup fairy has decided to "bless" me with throat tearing, ear shattering, child scarring hiccups. This is not an exaggeration. I really do have these hiccups. They are obnoxious and loud and never ending. Most people have several over a short period of time, I get one hiccup but it occurs about every hour. One loud hiccup that spreads fear over my peers faces and exclamations of "you scared me!" I also get questions of "how does that happen?", I honestly am not too clear about why, my doctors aren't sure and I've just had to learn to accept that I will probably always be a hiccuping freak of nature. My favorite response to my always joyful hiccups is the "can you stop them?" If i could don't you think I would? Seriously people, I get that they're annoying and loud, try living with them. I get annoyed with them just as much as you. It sucks when I'm at the movies, or a play, or a school assembly and they happen, I don't like being the freak. Worst of all id the first day of school, new teachers, new students, frantically looking around the room for someone I've had class with before to back me up in saying that this is how I am, and unfortunately it's going to happen a lot throughout the year, I appreciate the people who find them hysterical and always laugh, I can deal with the laughter more than I can the looks of terror. Having people look at you like you're a monster does not boost a teenage girls confidence.

But lets face it no matter if you find them funny, or terrifying, or feel indifference about my hiccups, no one wants to date the hiccuping wierdo in class. That's why my hiccups are reason 1, Beware the hiccuping freak!