Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Ugh. Why is this so difficult? I told my friends I was going to do a profile, and I plan to follow through—I just didn’t expect it to be so damn thought-provoking. You’d think it would be easy whipping out a few lines, considering they only give you so many characters to describe yourself and what you want.
“Do you honestly expect to find a soulmate on a college dating app?” My roommate Gabby snorted when I told her, which was so rude. “Go to the bar like a normal person.”
Go to the bar like a normal person?
I didn’t go to the bars, so why should I start now that I want to try dating? Isn’t that just setting myself up to find a guy who only wants to party or have casual sex?
Or am I just stereotyping? I don’t know too many people who met the love of their life at a bar. Fraternity party, yes.
Bar, no.
“Everyone is on dating apps.” I’d rolled my eyes at her, but there was still doubt rolling in the pit of my stomach.
The idea excites me but makes me nervous at the same time.
Daisy, what’s the rush?
No rush, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder if the right guy for me is right under my nose, and I haven’t found him yet because I haven’t been looking. My parents met in college; their junior year as a matter of fact. They’re best friends (gag, I know). Is it wrong that I might want the same thing?
Yes, I have a best friend.
Yes, I love being independent and my own person.
Yes, I love being able to do what I want, when I want.
It’s just… every so often, I look over at my girlfriends, who are all in relationships, and lately, a small void inside me yearns to be filled.
Gabby jokes I have a hole I yearn to have filled—by a dick.
Ha ha, she’s sooo funny.
But speaking of sex and being dicked—is it so wrong that every now and again, I lie in bed wishing for a face between my legs? And every now and again as I lie in bed, I wish maybe I was giving a blow job to the owner of that face?
A plus-one.
A ride or die that can’t lend me a tampon but will still hold my hair back when I’m barfing in the toilet with cramp nausea.
In search of someone to take to weddings, sorority mixers, and to meet family.
Also, I have an irrational fear that I will see a guy on a dating app, then discover him sitting in the row behind me in my lab or a class. An irrational fear that a guy will see me on the dating app, not swipe on me but approach me in public when I’m not interested.
What if some guy recognizes me and it becomes awkward?
You’re overthinking this, Daisy.
One step at a time. You haven’t even uploaded the app yet.
Stella—my best friend and our other roommate—is at her dance class, so she’s no help to me as I set up the profile, and clearly, Gabby is sour and in no mood.
Fine. Whatever.
I can write my own dating profile. It’s not as if anyone needs to hold my hand—thankyouverymuch.
I stare at the small screen of my cell. The app wants my name, age, and location. And. Up to ten photos.
Ten photos?! Damn. Do I have three decent pictures let alone ten? And do I have pictures of just me and not me with a group of my besties?
I scroll through my photo gallery, deciding to tackle the photos first.
What do people put in these things? Where do I start?
I want to sound cute and clever and funny ’cause that’s the kind of guy I’m trying to attract. But holy hell this feels impossible—and I’ve done elevator pitches in my advertising classes. And if you’re not sure what an elevator pitch is, it’s literally a quick “sale” of yourself or something you’re trying to get the other person to buy into in the amount of time it would take for an elevators doors to close and reach its first stop.
Easier said than done.
A bit clueless, I find myself literally googling “clever dating bios” on the internet and stewing over each one. As I scroll and scroll, I’m wrinkling my nose over what people consider clever or funny or sexy.
Cliché.
Lame.
Ugh.
DAISY, 21
About me: New to this dating thing but giving it a shot…
About me: I like hot dogs at the movies, dogs, and spaghetti Sunday.
About me: I like hot dogs at the movies, rainy days, my favorite books are romance novels, and no, that doesn’t mean I have unrealistic expectations of dating.
Shit.
That sounds kind of cynical, doesn’t it?
I delete the last part, resolving to stay positive.
DAISY, 21
About me: I like hot dogs at the movies, rainy days, my favorite books are romance novels, Netflix series critic, pets with human names.