I'm yelling TINDER...

To be honest, I've been tempted to write about my experience with Tinder, but then I'd actually have to admit I'm on it. Which I wasn't so willing to do in the article I wrote for my college paper about being single but some reason the entire internet feels much more intimate.

So for those of you playing the home game, Tinder is a hook up app that connects to Facebook. It became super popular during the Olympics, because it finds you matches by how close you are, so people could randomly hook up all over the streets of Vancouver. Can you imagine? "Mmmm, this chick's HAWT, and she's 1km away..."

I made a profile with up 6 pictures from my Facebook account, my name and my age. There's also an option for a write up, but I felt far too much pressure and opted out it. I was tempted to write, "looking for someone who likes cooking and is good at it", but I didn't.

That's it ladies and gentlemen. That's all you have to base a huge decision of swipe left for yes and right for no. It feels completely judgmental! How on earth is that ethical? That being said, it's addictive. I'm not ashamed to say I'm swipe happy.

The app also brings up matches who you have common friends with, and common interests. I must have gone nuts one day for interests, I have over 35. Most of which are outdoorsy like hiking, fishing and camping, so I keep getting this super athletic, outdoorsy guys, not that I'm complaining...

I think it would be mean to admit who I've run into that I know in real life, matched based on our common friends on Facebook, but lets just say it's 100 times more jarring than complete strangers.

I've noticed a few reoccurring trends; pictures with dogs, full back tattoos, guys holding guns and topless selfies. The last of which is a Tinder Turn Off for me, and since they're so funny, let me tell you about other automatic swipe rights...

I click no automatically to guys who have girlfriend pictures, too many alcohol pictures, and pictures where you can't see their head. Duh. Don't get me started on the one gem who just had a picture of his junk, in a pair of WET white underwear. Doesn't leave too much to the imagination, does it Grandma? (I know she reads my blog, don't worry Grams, I didn't take a screen shot)

For no explainable reason I also say no to guys who wear scarves. I feel like they're too artistic for my taste. Maybe too metrosexual. I realize this makes no sense. The poor guys are just cold, and I'm not giving them a chance.

I also say no to all guys named Gary, because that would just be weird. Its my dads name, and even though it's pretty uncommon, I'm surprised how many popped up on Tinder. Maybe it's the same guy over and over again, I would never know. I swiped "OUTTA HERE" too quickly.

When I do get matched with a guy, and they message me, I can't stand it when guys use improper grammar, punctuation and spelling. I dun care if u think ur 2 cool for skool, it drives me CRAZY! I'll overlook the occasional "u" or "r" but use two, too or to incorrectly, all bets are off. On an unrelated note, I just discovered an "unmatch" button...

Wow, that's a lot of Tinder Turn Offs. Well a few things I say yes to are guys who put a smiling picture as their first picture, and ones who write something witty in their write up. And gingers. Oh my goodness the gingers. I have something for freckles, and gawd help me if they're covering their entire body head to toe (my only exception to the topless selfies rule).

So far I have lots of matches, I'm talking to a half dozen guys, and I've been on couple dates...but this post is long enough, I guess you'll have to check back for an update ;)

"Beat the heat!"

I hate this phrase. Everytime I hear it, for no good reason, I cringe. The thing is, I don't consider it a phrase, because a phrase is spoken by people, in day to day conversations. This annoying combination of words has only every been used in bad advertising. Ever heard your friend say, "darn good thing I got this popsicle, it's helping me to BEAT THE HEAT!" No. Not even close. It's slogan. I bet the clever bugger that first came up with it is rich as sin. I bet he uses it in conversations, and I hope his friends tease him about it. I would.

DINK

A friend of mine dropped this one of our conversations the other day, it's an acronym for "Duel Income, No Kids". The problem is he used it in a unique context of, "Can't blame him, he's dink..." I feel like you can only use an acronym with success when it's not already another word. I told him dink was taken, now twice. Poor Dinosaur. 

Garage Sale-sman

It being the summer, lots of Garage Sales have started popping up, just about everywhere. I like taking a peek mostly because scrapbooking is the hobby for the extremely anal retentive and some people go out buying lots thinking its for them, soon to find out it's not. Then a couple years later they forget how much they spent on it, and try to unload it to make room. I love these people.

But why is it that I can't look at your junk in peace? Something about garage sales turns every man, woman and especially child into a salesperson. That's a spectacular idea to a child, the last person that rolled up gave me money for stuff I don't want or need anymore! All of a sudden you're a gazzel to a lion. And you're the only thing standing between that lion and their next favourite video game. Good luck!

But the parents are just as bad. They like to rattle off stats on their crap. "Those are $120, size 7, brand name jeans, and you can have them for the low price of $20!" I'm so tempted to ask if that's in five easy payments, or if I get a money back guarantee. But it doesn't. As soon as you hand over the cash and make it past the lemonade stand, you're the proud owner buster. With any luck you'll find a $20 in the zipper pocket and turn a profit.

All bottled up

Lately I've been taking in a couple of my friends pilled up bottles to help my fundraising for the Ride to Conquer Cancer. Thursday I had a whole carload to take in at 5:30pm when I finished work, and the place I was taking them to closed at 6pm. 

It was when I was wheeling all my bags in for sorting that at guy came up to me and asked if I needed help. I said no, and to be honest I recognized him and thought he worked there. He said, "Oh come on, I don't mind, I'm waiting for a friend anyhow" and started sorting them. It occurred to me that with his efficiency of sorting that this guy might actually come here a lot, and want some of the money from the bottle since he was helping. So I told him what the money was going to.

 As we're finishing, which took half as long, or less than it would have, he asked me for a favour. He'd put two flats of beer cans aside and asked me if he could have the money from them. Feeling guilty that he'd helped, I said yes. I left the bottle depot with $30 from the bottles and a bad taste in my mouth.

To be honest, the cans he took probably only got him $2, at most, but its the principle. I didn't like that I assumed he would ask me for money, and then that he proved my assumption right. I felt cheated. I wouldn't have wanted his help if he expected compensation for it, and I felt obligated since he had. Also, it wasn't like the money was going in my pocket either, he knew where the money was going, and he asked anyways. I talked to a few friends about it, a couple who agreed with me, and others said I need to let it go. Either way, I was still thinking about it two days later, and that made it blog worthy in my mind. 

Grammy's slippers

I love going to visit my Grammy Ivy at the old folks home she's staying at in Aldergrove. 

Starbucks is Grammy's favourite, so for a change of scenery, I often take her to get a cup. 

One time I took her, I didn't realize until we were getting out of the car, that Grammy just had her slippers on. We laughed and laughed. Maybe it's because I'm not a mom yet, but I didn't even check! I told Grammy that it's trending for girls to wear them out, and she was just fashionable. 

As proof, this is some random chick wearing her slippers in Timmies. Inside the mall. *sigh*
Grammy rocked it better than her. 

Ride on

On Father's Day, I registered for the 2015 Ride to Conquer Cancer. On the application I got to circle that I want my fundraising to go directly to Lymphoma. I also need to raise $2500 and train to ride 260km to Seattle in August 2015. Two months to the day after I lost my dad to cancer, I bought a bike second hand to reach my goal.

I can't ever say enough good things about the man, and how he made such a positive impact on my life and who I've become. I've always been a daddy's girl, and anyone who spends more than 10 minutes around me picks up on how much he meant to me.

I'm no where near coping with loosing him, and sometimes I wake up hoping it was all a bad dream, but my family and friends are helping me move upward and onward.

I keep taking on these runs, obstacle course races, and challenges thinking it'll be the time I bite off more than I can chew, but I keep surprising myself. So far I'm a Spartan, a Warrior, a Concrete Hero and a Mudder. I want to make it over this finish line too.

But I need your help. Donate. Post this to your wall. Share my story, not because it's unusual, but because it's far too common.

http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Vancouver2015?px=3775976&pg=personal&fr_id=1524