We interrupt this dating blog for an important discussion

I know this blog is primarily dedicated to my dating escapades and believe me, we'll go back to that next week but for today I feel it is right to take a step back and talk about everything that happened this past week, because a lot of stuff went down.

In the world of Natalie there is no such thing as violence. I hate guns, I hate knives, I hate anything that will remotely hurt anyone because I am a firm believer in harmony and equality for all. Unfortunately, my world and the actual world I live in are much different. Our world is a world where guns are easily accessible and mass shootings have become the norm. Everyday I turn on the TV and become inundated with guns, and shootings, and violence and hate and fear and Trump. Our generation has grown up in the era of 9/11 and Columbine and Virginia Tech. We live in a world where the opportunity for average people to grow up is so often taken by another human.

Pulse Nightclub was an average place. People from all different walks of life went there to blow off steam and enjoy a night of fun. In their wildest dreams they didn't think they'd become a face that's plastered across the news as one of forty-nine victims. They had mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and grandparents and aunts and uncles and friends. They went to elementary school and played soccer. They worked at jobs, they went to college, they had lives. They made plans for the next day because in a normal world, who is going to bring a gun into a nightclub and kill innocent souls?

I could've been one of those people. You could've been one of those people. Maybe you weren't gay, or you don't go to nightclubs, but maybe you're a fan of music, maybe you go to the mall. It could happen to any of us, it could happen anywhere.

We lost forty-nine innocent souls who went to a nightclub to have fun. We as a country should be grieving but do you know what we're doing? We're going on Facebook and ranting about the government taking our guns, we're yelling on Twitter about how all Muslims are trying to kill us. Most of these people don't know the first thing about Islam or isis. They don't know that isis is attacking us because they want people to turn against our Muslim brothers and sisters. They want Muslims to turn around and join isis and unit against the people who've ostracized them. They want us to feel the pain we've caused them. Reacting the way we as a country have is exactly what isis wants.

I'm lost and sad and I'm not optimistic about the future. Most days I want to stay inside my house and go nowhere near the outside world. I'm too sad and angry and scared.

I wish we could talk about the forty-nine people who were lost. I wanted this post to be about those people but it's not because I can't talk about them without talking about how this easily could've been stopped. I can't talk about anything that happened in Orlando this weekend without talking about guns and weapons and how they're so easily accessible.

I read a story about one of the victims, she was a cancer survivor. She beat the odds and proved to everyone that people can rise above the circumstances they are given. She was a fighter. Another person I read about worked at Universal Studios in Harry Potter World, which he loved. There was a recent high school graduate who was celebrating. I read that she actually got out of the club right as the shooting started but she went back in to get someone who was left behind.

These were innocent people who could've been alive today if a man hadn't felt self-righteous enough to walk into a club and kill forty-nine people. Christina Grimmie was a talented young woman, she was two years younger than me. She had her whole life ahead of her. She was meeting fans, she was meeting the man who killed her. How is any of this okay?

I just want to live in a world where there isn't hate. Where there aren't people who feel such displeasure with their life that they feel the need to kill other people.

On top of all this we are on social media telling everyone how angry we are they are going to take our guns away, or how those people deserved it because they were gay. No one deserves to be killed. I don't know, I'm just trying to understand. I'm spending most of my days avoiding the outdoors because I'm scared something terrible will happen, that I'll be one of those forty-nine people someday.

I was at the mall yesterday and became panicked because I didn't feel safe. What kind of world is this where I get bad feelings at a mall? I don't know, I just want us all to stop and mourn and think about our future. Do we want to raise kids in a world like this?

In conclusion I want to urge every one of you who is reading this to stop hate, to stop writing on your Facebook or Twitter. To think before you post. It is time to stop the hate because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. Instead, project love because love is everything.

That time I dated an a-hole and became a stage five clinger

Let's talk about my dating history: It is sucky. If you look up "bad dating history" in the dictionary, you'd find my face next to it. I have never been on a date with someone where something weird hasn't happened or I've found that the person I'm sitting across from at the table isn't a total douche.

My first online match that actually became somewhat of a relationship happened after about six months after being on eHarmony. We shall call this man Nick because he looked like a Nick, even though that wasn't his real name. Nick was definitely opposite from what I usually go for, he was rugged, and manly, loved playing sports and was built pretty well. He was in the Army or Marines or Air Force, I really don't remember which type of service he was in, but he was in one of them.

Before I go any further, let me put into context my life at this point. I was nineteen or twenty, working at Walmart, going to school and hadn't been in a real relationship yet. I'd had a short-term fling with a boy at work who was beyond anything I can comprehend into words. He was pretty much a scrub in the words of TLC and also in the words of TLC "I don't want no scrubs" so it was a short-lived relationship. Ironically, he desperately wanted to be in the same armed forces Nick was in (again, can't remember which). At this point I was also at my ideal weight. I had lost over thirty pounds in the few months prior, and I was proud of myself and for the first time confident in my body.

Now, Nick lived 2 hours away from me so naturally, this relationship would be long distance. Because he was in the armed forces he was required to be on base during the weeks so we talked pretty religiously until we finally could pull our schedules together and meet. We decided we'd meet early on a Saturday because I had to work Saturday evenings at the Wally World. I offered to drive part of the way because the distance was so far and he agreed to meet me in a mall about an hour away from my house.

I showed up at the mall early (as I usually am) and sat around for a few minutes waiting for him to show up. Around the time he was supposed to show up I hadn't heard anything from him. I wondered if he was stuck in traffic so I texted him, thinking he could at least text me if he was sitting in traffic. He didn't respond, so I called my best friend, Lauren who calmed me down as I anxiously awaited his arrival.

One thing you should know about me is that I don't like waiting, as someone who is extremely anxious, waiting is the bane of my existence. I could go from being totally calm to actually hyperventilating in the time it takes for a date to arrive, so naturally him having me wait was not something that sat with me well.

After about twenty minutes past his scheduled arrival time he told me he was a few minutes away and that he was stuck in traffic and he couldn't text me. I was happy he chose not to text me, putting his safety first, and though I was having a panic attack while on the phone with my best friend who was 300 miles away in Boston, I remained as composed as I could.

Twenty more minutes later he finally showed up. I was nervous but remained cool and calm, something nowadays I rarely am. I met him at the door and was pleasantly surprised with the fact he looked a lot like his picture, maybe even more handsome. As soon as he greeted me he told me he had to go to the bathroom. I understood, it was a long drive however, after ten minutes of him not leaving the bathroom I wondered if something was wrong.

I texted Lauren once again, explaining that after he made me wait forty minutes for him to arrive, he had now been in the bathroom for ten minutes. She once again calmed me down while I thought up extreme situations. "He was doing heroin, which would make sense as to why he was late, he was in such a need for another hit, he had to pull over and take a shot of heroin, and now he was in the bathroom doing another shot of heroin because he needed to calm down, or maybe, worse than that he was on the phone with his friend saying I was a total cow and he needed to make an escape quick. I panicked for the next five minutes until he finally came out."

I was comforted by the fact he didn't seem uninterested, rather he seemed quite interested and wanted to get to know me. I was pleased and totally excited about the possibility of a new relationship however, just as I was getting comfortable, low and behold he had to go to the bathroom again. Suddenly, the heroin addiction didn't seem too far-fetched. "Wait, do heroin addicts really need to take heroin this much? I mean every fifteen minutes is kind of extreme. Could he even be in the armed forces if he was a heroin addict? Do they drug test you? What if he got in before he became addicted to heroin? How often do they drug test you?"

This bathroom routine happened at least four more times and after a while I just assumed he'd be going to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. I even wondered if I should set my watch to remind him. "Oh, Nick, its been fifteen minutes you should go to the bathroom to get another hit of heroin." After the fourth or fifth time he finally told me he had to keep going to the bathroom because he was so nervous and making himself sick. I thought, awww, how precious, this guy isn't addicted to heroin, he's just really anxious. 

Things ended soon after he told me he wasn't a heroin addict; I had to go to work, he had to drive back to base. I was sure he would kiss me after the date was over but he didn't, which, looking back on it is fine because if he was making himself sick through the mouth end, I probably wouldn't enjoy kissing him anyway. He later told me he didn't want me to get the wrong idea about him (i.e. he was just in it to get laid).

We made plans to meet the next weekend, but because my work schedule didn't offer me weekends off he decided to stay at a hotel close to my house. It was nice getting to spend the whole weekend with him and after being with him every moment, except the moments when I had to go to work, I knew he wasn't a heroin addict, which was comforting.

We had a great weekend and I was throughly pleased with how amazing the relationship was going. I went to work the afternoon after he left feeling excited and happy. I was in the middle of working when I got a text message from Nick. It read that he really liked me, but that maybe I should consider losing some weight. No joke, that is literally what the text message read. I was enraged that number one, this guy who wasn't exactly perfectly fit either (he was skinny, but had a tiny belly and definitely could've gained some muscle) would tell me I needed to lose weight and number two that he would do it over text message, not in person, I mean we had been in person the entire weekend.

I was so mad and told Nick I was done. No matter how great I thought the weekend was, I wouldn't get over this, not after losing all this weight and feeling so good about myself. I vowed to never speak to him again and went home, had a good cry and fell asleep.

The next morning I headed to class, still sad/angry but ready to get on with my life. After I arrived home I heard a knock at the door and went downstairs to answer it only to find a bouquet of roses in my face. The note read that he was sorry and would never hurt me again. Of course, like an idiot, I forgave him.

The next part of the story I'm not proud of. As a human who has experienced many different relationships and dates, I know I would never do this to someone, but as a nineteen or twenty year old happy I finally met a "good" guy, this seemed totally logical.

I became a stage five clinger. Maybe it was because I was still upset about the whole "fat" comment, maybe it was because I just wanted to be loved, either way, I clung to Nick like he was my lifeline. In my defense though, he never once stopped it. We made plans together, we talked about our future, we told each other we loved the other, I was so happy I couldn't contain myself. It was embarrassing to be quite honest. The weekend he left I cried for hours and he hugged me and I was finally happy I had a boyfriend, despite the fact we'd only been together a month.

We decided to take a weekend off from seeing each other however, I noticed pretty quickly that things were not the same, he rarely texted me back, and wasn't speaking to me at all. I wondered what was going on but decided to let the weekend pass before asking him if everything was okay.

That Monday I got up the courage to ask if he was mad at me. He at first, didn't want to explain himself but finally told me that he didn't really like me all that much, and that he didn't want to be in a relationship. I really can't remember everything he said but I was heartbroken. I left the most embarrassing message on Lauren's phone that I seriously hope was deleted the moment she got it. I cried and cried and tried to reason with him but nothing I said would change his mind.

Our final conversation was him telling me that we should be friends and help each other during our next relationships, which you know, is BS. He then told me that he had many pointers, like the fact I shouldn't text back so fast. This comment stayed with me, and if I had been in the right frame of mind would've set me off because number one, a text message is a text message, you get it, you reply, YOU DON'T LET IT SIT THERE BECAUSE IT SEEMS DESPERATE. Number two, if I don't text back right away I will forget, so it's either I text back when I get the message or your luck sucks bro, you'll never hear from me.

I learned a lot from this "relationship." First of all, if a guy smells like an a-hole, and looks like an a-hole, he probably is an a-hole. Second of all, if someone upsets you for their own sake, seriously, dump them, they don't get to be the one who you're vulnerable with. Third of all, I'm not comfortable holding a tall person's hand in public, because I personally feel that I look like a child holding her daughter's hand *shivers*.

I've changed a lot since that relationship. If Nick talked to me today he would get an ear full of anger and frustration. How dare someone tell me how to live my life or try to put me down to lift themselves up. Nick was an a-hole, there weren't two ways about it, right down to the way he told me I shouldn't "text back so quick." However, he was a learning experience, and though he would get an earful of anger, I'd probably also thank him for teaching me something about life and the world of dating.

Introduction

Here's the deal, I've dated a lot. It sucks dating so much that you literally feel like if you have to go to another awkward dinner you may pull your hair out but alas, I, like everyone else in this world, want to find a companion to go on adventures with, enjoy the finer things in life with and most importantly find a lifelong partner in.

Part of my desperation probably stems from the fact so many of my friends on Facebook are engaged or in serious long-term relationships they insist on flaunting. It's terrible, because suddenly I feel pressured to find someone simply because so many of my peers who I grew up with have already found someone.

I'm 23 but I feel like I'm 30 because apparently 23 is the new 30 and people get married really young nowadays. My parents were married in their late 20s, but here I am, desperate to at least find a suitable partner for the foreseeable future because our generation has collectively decided to get married younger.

I live in a world where meeting members of the opposite sex I find desirable is few and far between. For two and a half years I worked at Walmart where the most eligible bachelors I met had no teeth and looked like they had a serious hygiene problem. I was appalled by most of them simply because they resorted to chewing tobacco, which they insisted on spitting into a clear plastic bottle for me to quiver at as I handed them their change. When I finally quit Walmart I moved onto a women's clothing store where there were no eligible bachelors at all because no man sets foot into a women's clothing store unless they are buying something for their girlfriend or wife. School has plenty of eligible bachelors but they are mostly frat boys who drink so frequently that I often see them fall asleep at their desk, need I say more?

So here's the quandary I'm in, I am a 23 year old who's under immense amount of pressures to find a mate because, despite the fact my high school peers are only visible to me through Facebook, I am feeling the same peer pressure I experienced in high school, except this time it's to date and in turn get married. In addition to that, as is proven by the paragraph above I am really picky.  Not just anyone will make the cut, in fact, most people don't make the cut. I mean, I do live in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania where the mass majority of males drive a giant truck (which I firmly believe means they are trying to make up for some other incompetence they possess (i.e. a small penis)), wear flannel shirts that are cut at the sleeves and have those clicky clacky high heeled cowboy boots that sound like a woman's high heel.

Knowing all this, where does a girl go from here? Well, she enters the world of online dating because going straight to the source of her self-consciousness is exactly how she should go about this. I've been online dating for quite some time, probably a good three years. What have I gotten for those years spent messaging people? An emotionally abusive relationship, fifty million dates and countless weirdos. I spend so much time trying to weed out the ones who message constantly or the ones who refuse to take no for an answer (in your expression of disinterest that is), that I'm left with few people to choose from, most of whom possess those specific qualities I dislike.

This may be annoying to you, you may be saying "Natalie, just settle, you can't get everything you want," but you know what? I can. Everyone is entitled to be truly happy and to not settle, so why should I? Just because I am not the most confident? Just because I'm maybe not the prettiest girl in the world? Hell no. I will not give up, I will keep going and I will find my person. And in the meantime, I will write about all the mishaps in this blog, because I need somewhere to share my stories of embarrassment and disaster. So strap in, this will be fun!