Of Bagels & Lemon Bars

In my absolute determination to write a post about ANYTHING other than the fact that randomly, against all odds, I've been accidentally running into (and deliberately ignoring) Mr. Charming which for some reason led him to add me on SnapChat at 2:00 A.M. one morning, I downloaded a dating app.

So welcome to my review of Coffee Meets Bagel. I was inspired to retry this app because one of my new roommates met her current boyfriend on it about three months again. (Both new roommates are completely awesome, by the way. Thanks for asking.)

Pen Pals Need Not Apply

Bumble is driving me batshit crazy. I don't know if it's the app or the men, or if it's simply the kind of men that this app attracts that are causing the problem, but I'm getting sick and tired of making small talk.

I know we've talked about it before, but I'm still going to walk you through a basic break-down of how Bumble works.

Think of a deck of cards, each one for a different man/woman (depending on your preference). The card contains up to six photos of a person. It pulls your age, job, and alma mater from your Facebook profile. And, you have the option to fill out a little "About Me" section. Here's mine:

OkCupid, Mr. Alumni, & So Many, Many Regrets

I have no self-control. That's what this boils down to, really. I'm an idiot with no self control.

I was home sick, and bored, and I'd already blogged for a second time that week, and I'm still fighting this bizarre urge to text Mr. Charming. The desire fluctuates between hoping it will somehow magically turn into him begging to see me again (unlikely) and the desire to demand an explanation for why he dropped off the face of the planet (which I doubt he would give me even if he did reply).

So in my desire to avoid getting myself into that horrible situation, I put myself in another horrible situation instead.

I downloaded OkCupid's app.

And I have nothing but regrets.

Clover, Stating My Intentions, and Omar

So this week my dating app addiction led me down a new path: Clover.

If you aren't familiar with my addiction, here's the need-to-know summary: I download dating apps out of boredom because I like window-shopping through an endless supply of men. Only once in a blue moon do any of these apps induce me to go on an actual date.

What did I think of Clover? Well, it confirmed my belief that this world can only be cleansed by fire.

Clover markets itself as Tinder meets OKCupid. I've never used the latter, so I can't compare on that front. But the Tinder-concept makes sense: it's your basic swipe-right-swipe-left format for shuffling through potential matches. Window shopping galore. The major difference is that this app also has a section that allows you to see your matches, people you've liked, AND (here's the selling point) people who've liked you—whether or not you've even checked them out to see if it's mutual.

Bumbling Along With Mr. Comfortable

Here's the cold hard truth: Since last week, I've already written two full posts for this blog that I then chose not to share. The stories, you won't be surprised to know, are regarding my dating life of the past year and a half (i.e. since the last time I update Me & Mr. Right Now). But here's why this blog is difficult for me. Sometimes I'm not sure what to share. How much is too much personal information? When does a post cross the line from a relatable story into me gratuitously whining about how "Love done me wrong?" And also, the introspective question: At what point am I really ready to share some things? When does it stop being "too soon?"

Perhaps one day, when I feel more removed from those stories, I will share them, but for now, here's a summary: