My Online Dating Experience

Following a year long hiatus from my blog I’ve decided to do something productive with my existence during my spare time, other than drink and watch Netflix, and at least TRY to blog once and a while. I felt that there was no better way to jump back into the blogging world, than with a blog post which reveals how my desperations levels are sky rocketing as of late. I have shamelessly joined various dating apps in order to increase my chances in finding a husband and of course I’m willing to share my experience of these apps with you.*

[* Now I will warn you that I may come across as being shallow in this blog, however I believe that if you’re on one of these sites, being shallow is a given as you are judging people superficially on their basic information and a few photos. So if you’re thinking “why the fuck does this fat bitch think she’s a Victoria’s Secret model?” don’t worry, I certainly do not have such an unbearably high opinion of myself, but I do have (some) standards. ]

Up until the recent emergence of Tinder, online dating was viewed as a shady, catfish infested world where people who couldn’t even get the shift on a night out congregated in search of their soul mate. Now you could easily download an app which connected with your basic Facebook details and alas, you were on your way to finding ‘the one’. Tinder is extremely popular amongst younger people, which helped with ‘normalising’ the whole dating website stigma. Over 50 million people are using Tinder and at first I really enjoyed using it too. However after some time I felt as though that it was more so an ego boost app where you could maybe organise some casual sex, but nothing serious. Out of the 280 matches I’ve made on Tinder I have probably only conversed with around 20 guys seriously and have only met two in person. Often, I found that people were using Tinder to establish who thought they were hot but in the case of actually seeing the person in public, they’d look the other way. Some people I know often deleted the app and restarted their account again, just to see if anyone new would have liked them. Therefore my original high opinion of Tinder has diminished as of late and I have now moved on to greener pastures (OR SO I THOUGHT). On the advice of a friend, who told me that these other apps were much more successful as regards to going on dates, I joined OkCupid and subsequently Plenty of Fish (PoF)

What to expect:

Both apps are quite similar in their set up. Unlike Tinder, you fill out your own information such as your age, body type, height, interests, who you’re interested in meeting and so forth. You can complete so called ‘chemistry tests’ which delve into more ‘personal’ questions such as ‘Are you attracted to dangerous situations?’ or ‘Are you disgusted by the extremely obese?’ or my personal favourite ‘Are carbohydrates something you think about?’, to which I obviously answered yes because I like to fantasise about all the carbs all of the time.

Unlike Tinder, both POF and OkCupid allow anyone who is interested in you to contact you. So as a young, mildly attractive female, you can expect to be inundated with messages from guys who you would certainly would never dream of ‘swiping right’ to on Tinder. This can actually be quite overwhelming at first as on OkCupid it emailed me anytime someone visited my profile (I learned how to turn that notification system off quite quickly). What I found irritating and somewhat concerning were the guys messaging me who had no photos of themselves on the site, or worse, the guys who had photos of themselves with no tops on and their faces cropped out. I cannot see the point in having a conversation with someone on one of these apps when I had no clue what they looked like and the whole secrecy over what they looked like did them no favours in the “el creepo shady department”. I filled out my ‘About me’ section as follows:

Not interested in anyone under the age of 22. If you have your top off or your car in your photos I will be inclined to wonder if you are trying to compensate for other areas. Interested in dates and maybe taking things further of they’re successful.

Anyhoo, as it is a dating site I did expect the usual el freakos and the cringe worthy chat up lines, but HOLY FUCK was I naive about how vile some people truly are. Now to give some context here, I do mention ‘Bye Felipe’ in conversation with a creepo in one of the following photos. This is from this Instagram account I stumbled upon some time ago, where they upload screenshots of dating app conversations that girls have had with less than pleasant individuals.

You can check out that page here: https://instagram.com/byefelipe/

Secondly, I am by no means a prude. However, the way some of these guys approached a conversation with me was truly stunning. I really am concerned over how any of these creatures expect to actually find a girl on these apps with some of their opening lines and more importantly, some of their incessant need to continually harass me when I have clearly shown no interest and have not responded. 

Alas, my dear friends, feast your eyes upon the screenshots of my online dating adventure:

I enjoy how he blocks out some of the letters from the word 'cock', as though it makes it less rude.

Now that is an excellent way to start a conversation

IMAGINE joining a dating website to increase the number of your Facebook friends?

I'm holding out hope that he was just trolling me 

One of my profile photos is of me and my friend Meghan and I suppose he thought he had a good chance with her by suggesting to me that he would put his semen on her.

Self praise is no praise at all

Plenty of Fish was a little less chock a block with weirdos, however there were some gems worth screenshotting:

Please refer to my previous blog post on slut shaming for why I would be infuriated by this

Dealing with rejection is not obviously a strong point of his.

 

                                                  He genuinely gave me the shivers 

Don't people tend to 'Perv on the local talent' through Facebook stalking?

So what is my verdict? Whilst this post will seem overwhelmingly negative because I am only focusing on the degenerates on these sites, I would actually recommend using them. Personally, I think Plenty of Fish had more people in my age range and more 'normal' seeming people. If you are genuinely interested in meeting people to go on dates with I beleive the chances are much higher when using these, than on a night out or using Tinder. You have nothing to lose by downloading the app and having a look, and who knows, you may just find the love of your life!

Goodnight Irene

My three most embarassing memories

So it's a Saturday night and I really had a strong thirst for alcohol tonight. However, my friends are much more studious and well behaved and therefore the idea of going out was swiftly brushed aside. Now here I am, alone, and left to my own thoughts and devices, my fake tan is drying in and the fumes (a distinct mix of dried in cats pee and mustiness) are sending me into a mild state of The Fear. 

I assume you are all aware of what The Fear is. If, however, you live under a rock here is what Urban Dictionary defines The Fear as: 

·         "The Fear" is the sense that you have done yourself some lasting damage after a night of drinking. It's symptoms are: 

- A feeling that you are going to die soon (and not just due to other hangover symptoms); 

- A sense that people or organizations are out to get you; 

- Angst that you may have offended, inappropriately touched or physically attacked someone the night before; 

- Foreboding about the next time you meet the people or return to the bar where you degraded yourself the previous night. 

The fear is often accompanied by "The Remorse" where you are also genuinely ashamed and sorry for the way you have behaved, as well as simply frightened for the sake of your own wellbeing.

Concerned Friend: "How are you feeling after last night?" 

Sufferer: "I am riddled with The Fear. And cat AIDS."

As I have now been a whole week without alcohol (an amazing feat I know), clearly my fear is not induced by alcohol. In my case, as I am left to my own thoughts, I recall times of embarrassment. Times where I have been drunk and have behaved in a laughable manner or indeed times when I have been sober and simply have behaved as myself and made a giant TIT out of myself. 

So for some bizarre reason I have decided to tell you all three stories of woe. Three times when I have truly stuck my foot in the bucket of shite and made a fool of myself. 

*no idea why i used this meme. I just thought it was funny.

1. Intoxicated

It kind of hurts my feelings when people tell me they haven't been to Coppers. I don't care how hip, trendy or alt you claim to be or how much you detest cheesy pop music, GAA jerseys and overpriced drink, you need to visit Coppers at least ONCE in your life. 

So obviously my first tale of embarrassment occurred in Coppers. Let me warn you, if you think you make a shite of yourself in normal clubs or you know, have the one that's one too many, then in Coppers you can pretty much be assured that you will most certainly do something to humiliate yourself at some stage in here. 

I reckon it was about a year ago when I was up in Dublin for my friend's birthday and obviously enough I was capsized in alcohol and wearing heels that were definitely too high for the levels of alcohol in my system. With that ratio already imbalanced (like me) there was sure to be danger ahead. So there I was, thinking I was shit hot, walking (stumbling) from the top floor to the bottom when I reached the stairs. Now, managing the stairs in heels is difficult enough sober, so you can imagine where this story is going. 

From what I remember, I was counting my steps mentally as I made my way down. This is a tactic I use when manoeuvring stairs when drinking as I feel I concentrate more on my footwork and lessen my chances of falling. Tonight that would not work. Off I went, arse over tits, flying into the air and landed at the bottom of the stairs with my top, firmly placed over my head, torso, tits, the lot, all on show for the whole of coppers to see. Oh and I lost one of my shoes. Yep.

2. Sober

Now many of you will wonder, "Why in the good name of Christ is she telling people this??” for my next delightful story. This story is one of those things where, yes you are completely mortified but the story is so funny that you will get over the mortification in order to let other people share in the joy of it.

This incident occurred in second year of secondary school. I was in pass Maths (numbers and I have never worked well together) and it was actually one of my favourite classes to go to, for the craic, not for the learning. Anyhoo, we mostly spent our time acting the maggot and wrecking our poor teachers head, and she would always threaten us with 'I'll send ye back to where ye came from!!" (I.e. Honours Maths).

 So one day she again threatened us with eviction and through some means of a fellow classmate making a joke about it, myself and my friend Sinead got kicked out of the class for laughing hysterically. Outside the lab door we counted the bricks on the wall in order to stop ourselves from laughing out loud and when class was over she called ninety percent of the class back, including ourselves, to give out stink to us. While she gave out I was so concentrated on not laughing in her face that I can only recall the last words she said "And that will put the wind up ye'r skirts!!" and with that I emitted gas. Loudly. Yes, I farted. 

To which she replied "Not literally!!!!!!"

3. Sober

My last story happened most recently. As you are probably all aware, I am now in college in DIT in Dublin. One day in between lectures I needed to pass urine. As one usually does in a situation such as this, I made my way to the toilets. In this case you need to walk in a main door and then based on whether you are a boy or a girl you pick the appropriate door to enter. Off I went, into the bathroom that I thought was designated for girls. It was empty and I recall finding it peculiar that it only had two cubicles in it. Sitting down in the cubical I questioned where the sanitary bin was. (I actually thought these exact words: “Where the fuck is the fanny bad bin? What a fucking shit hole college, doesn’t even provided bins for tampons”.)

I could hear someone outside the cubical door and even at this stage I was still perfectly oblivious to the fact that I was indeed, in the men’s toilets. Out I pop from the cubical to be greeted by an EXTREMELY good looking guy pissing into a urinal. (OMG JUST THINKING BACK MAKES ME CRINGE.) I actually had the fucking audacity to ask him a loud was this not the girl’s toilets. AS HE PEED INTO A URINAL? I even stayed to wash my hands because in fairness, it only would have made it worse if I looked unhygienic as well as a fucking lunatic.

Anyone have any good embarrassing stories to share? LOL 

Omelette Muffins (HEALTHY!!!!)

Upon becoming, once again, inspired to stop eating like a fat shite (for lack of a better description) I decided to give these omelette cupcakes/muffins a go. I've seen them all over Pinterest and the food blogging world, with people making them in bulk to last them the entire week, to be used as meals or as a quick filling snack.

I LOVE eggs and these are ridiculously easy to make so it's a win-win situation for me.

Some blogs called for one egg per muffin, but they must be using mahoosive cupcake holders as I only used 5 eggs for 9 muffins! Basically pick out whatever kind of fillings you'd normally have with an omelette. Mine are vegetarian but I reckon chorizo would have been DIVINE in these badboys. 

Here's what I used:

5 eggs

Drop of milk

Tabasco

Salt 

Pepper

All Spice Seasoning

Half a corgette

Half a red pepper

Half an onion

5 Mushrooms

Grated Cheese

What to do:

Preheat your oven to 190 degrees

I chopped the vegetables into small chunks and added a bit of each to each case. 

Mix the five eggs in a jug with a splash of milk and season the mixture. Pour the egg mixture into each case, but not too high as they do rise in the oven.

They need to cook for around 20 minutes so half way through I added some grated cheese to the tops of them to ensure it was melted but not burnt (KEY TO SUCCESS)

You'll know theyre cooked by sticking a knife into the centre of them and if it comes out clean you're good to go. Leave them to stand for a few minutes when you take them out, and then carefully remove them from the tray onto a plate, remove the wrappers and eat them, obviously. 

From what I've read elsewhere, you can keep them in an airtight container, (a lunchbox, for you simpletons out there), in the fridge and they can be eaten hot or cold within the confines of a week. Don't take my word in health and safety matters , if you think they're gone off after a few days then don't bloody eat them!

However, my conclusion on them is that they are scrumptious!

Goodnight Irene 

Missing Flights and Eating Shite

Jaysis sorry for the hiatus lads, I know you were all barely sleeping without my wonderful blog posts, but alas here I am again. As I am mostly back up in Dublin and my laptop won't allow me to access my Microsoft Word (distressing) the only time I can write something juicy is at the weekends. However I am usually drinking, working or hungover which proves writing something coherent quite difficult to say the least.

Anyways, here I am in all my glory and before I get onto the food, I'll fill you in on my awe inspiring life. 

Last weekend I crossed the Irish Sea to visit my soulmate Edel in Aberdeen, Scotland. It was an absolutely HILARIOUS weekend and on Monday morning I set off in a taxi to the airport. What is normally a 20 minute commute, turned into an hour and a half long journey in back to back traffic, thanks to temporary traffic lights and a car crash. Confirming your suspicions, yes, I missed the fucking flight. Stuck in the airport, customer services being unhelpful asshats, I took it upon myself to sit in a toilet cubicle, ring my mother and cry. All I could think of was how in gods name I had made it to America and changed airports on my own before, and when tasked with leaving Aberdeen I was up shit creek. 

MIND BOGGLING. 

To cut a long story short, flights with Aer Lingus later that day were going to cost a whopping €300! That's a one way, 45 minute flight to Ireland. HOLY FUCK. I ended up staying with Edel another night and getting a 4 hour bus to Edinburgh airport to get a €90 flight home with Ryanair. 

Moral of the story: Always leave around 10 hours to get to the airport. Just in case.

In terms of the diet, as you can imagine, it has been pretty horrific. In fact, I'm terrifed to get back on the weighing scales. I feel kind of inspired to start again so I'll be bringing runners up to Dublin this week as well as homemade soup and Omellette muffins I made, in an attempt to get back on the bandwagon. 

Here are some of the things I've been eating:

My new favouite way to eat porridge is by mashing up a banana, adding some flaxseed mix and around a tablespoon of maple syrup and then mixing it through the porridge. I find it much more filling than just regular porridge. 

 I also do not find soup filling on its own. I'm always bloody hungry after, so I started added cooked quinoa to soup to make it more protein packed and filling. 

Rather than making this blog post any longer than it already is, I am going to post a separate one on a new recipe I tried out today: Omellette Muffins.

Later bitches,

Goodnight Irene 

Why you should fear the power that the Catholic Church still has on human rights in Ireland. (LGBT rights)

Ever since I understood or was aware that people could be gay, lesbian, bisexual or straight I found it absolutely mind boggling how, regardless of which one of those “status’” you relate to, if you identified with any of the first three you were discriminated against. It is a simple fact, today, in the 21^st century, when we’re supposed to have flying cars and find the cure for cancer, many people are busy having explosive diahorrea over the thought of two men or two women uniting in marriage and having a family.

I come from quite a religious family. We were all raised Catholics and mass every Sunday was non- negotiable, (Until of course I turned eighteen and realised I could utilise Sundays for curing a hangover, like a sloth, in my bed.)  Since I can remember I’ve always had an urge to challenge ‘the system’. Basically if I felt like something was bullshit or it didn’t suit my views I would have a great deal to say about it. Now you can imagine how my teenage raging hormones fuelled these ‘FUCK THE SYSTEM’ rants and after many years attending church I found myself constantly challenging and questioning the validity and supposed reality of what it teaches.

Why were there no female priests? Why did we say “Lord I am not worthy to receive you but only say the world and my soul shall be healed’ when I had done nothing wrong in the first place? Why did priests often give out about divorce and homosexuality, rather than focusing on the core idea behind the church: forgiveness and acceptance? These were just some of the many things I questioned about this religion I was brought up to believe in.

The outcome of my questioning was this: the Catholic Church and the vast majority of groups associated with are giant, raging, hypocritical HOMOPHOBICS and SEXISTS. 

What is a homophobic you may ask?

Homophobia is a range of negative attitudes and feelings toward homosexuality or people who are identified or perceived as being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender. It can be expressed as antipathy, contempt, prejudice, aversion or hatred. It may be based on irrational fear and is sometimes related to religious beliefs

Now, I take great joy in introducing you to the Iona Institute. You may remember this bunch of moronic fatheads from this OBVIOUSLY homophobic video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaRK-0W5HQI

Now with that joyful video in mind, I’ll tell ye a little story about these pricks. So say what you will about Drag Queens, but I fucking love them. (I even dressed up as one for Halloween one year because I love their over the top make up so much). Anyways, Rory O Neill is also known as Panti Bliss when kitted out in drag. He appeared on the Saturday Night Show recently and mentioned that there is homophobia within the country and that it is especially visible on the internet (TROLLZ) and through the media (i.e. ‘journalists’ who get paid to write their views on ‘teh gayz’)

He goes on to mention names of these so called journalists: John Waters and Breda O Brien and suddenly the shit hit the fan. RTE receive legal threats and complaints from the Iona Institute and ends up releasing an apology for the words of Rory O Neill during that segment of the show.

Say hello to Breda O’Brien:

As well as having a face like a bucket of squashed crabs, Breda is also a raging homophobe.

The Iona institute, along with the Catholic Church teaches that marriage is a union solely built for men and women and it must not be redefined in any shape or form. What I find comical about the church is that they like to pick and choose what they do and don’t believe in.

For instance, in the New Testament it says:

‘You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination." 

BUT it also says

 “That does not have fins and scales among all the teeming life of the water, and among all the living creatures that are in the water, they are detestable” (i.e. you can’t eat prawns or mussels or any other type of shellfish)

I wonder have Breda or John ever eaten sausages?

Leviticus 11:8, which is discussing pigs, reads "You shall not eat of their flesh nor touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you." 

  Let’s hope they haven’t because they’re likely to burn in the smelly pits of hell if they have as they have broken the rules of the Bible.

Anyhow, the whole idea of marriage, according to these people, is that children have ‘a mammy and a daddy’. Now, let us pause for a moment and think about the amount of divorced couples within the church, the amount of children who have been abandoned by their parents and are in state homes or orphanages around the world. Or how about the children who grow up with just a dad or a mom, and have never heard or seen sight nor light of their other parent, either through death or absence. The reality is this is a very common occurrence throughout the world, not just in Ireland. So the gays can’t reproduce. But male and female couples are not exactly role models for the perfect family units either. UNICEF stated that in 2005 there were over 132 million orphans in Sub Saharan Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean. How many of those children would be delighted to be adopted and have two parents, regardless of gender, to love and care for them. Many Conservatives will oppose this idea with disgust. Their argument being: “YOU’LL MAKE THE CHILDREN GAY TOO”. But hang on, how many of these gay parents came from two straight parents? Therefore, their argument is completely invalid.

My whole qualms with the lack of acceptance of LGBT rights within Ireland and the world as a whole is that more often than not, the church has a massive role in the opposition. The church and state should have absolutely no connection. We cannot make our laws with the views of any religion in mind, as by doing this we are marginalising a massive part of society. It baffles me as to why, in Ireland especially, we allow the church to do wrong by us over and over again and no one bats an eyelid. We need to wake up, open our minds and our eyes. Homosexuality is NOT a choice. It is how people are meant to be.

Why can’t we let people be happy? Life is miserable enough already without making issues out of something as simple as marriage and human rights. Seriously, if Mary and Margaret want to get married and adopt children what effect will this ultimately have on your life?

NO REALLY, THINK ABOUT IT?

Will you need Anti Depressants? Will your every thought be about what Mary and Margaret might be doing?

Seriously lads, we’re in the 21^st century and it honestly pains me that we are still this fucking backward.

LIVE AND LET LIVE

Goodnight Irene

Food diary and weightloss updates

 This week was quite testing as I had to go back up to Dublin to do an exam (which was horrific if any of you were wondering) and stayed up to go out to my usual haunt, Coppers. It started off okay and I even chose an orange as a snack rather than the usual biscuits/chocolate/caramel sundae/Big Mac etc. I had porridge before my exam and soup after. Then I became comatose and when I woke I was unable to even process the thought of conjuring up something healthy or even unhealthy myself. Therefore Fagan’s (Bertie Aherns local if you ever wanted to egg him), provided the food for the night. I didn't take photos, probably because I was ashamed at myself for giving in so easily but by JESUS was it delicious. I justified it as being a post exam reward and I regret nothing. 

So after getting absolutely capsized in Coppers we returned home to Galway the next morning, with Joyce being our chauffeur. Now the lovely Joyce actually failed to inform us that we would have to wait with her whilst her car got the oul NCT test (much to my distaste as I was actually wearing Piglet fluffy pyjamas) and I had the joyful experience of doing a strip show for everyone on the motorway as I tried to change into regular clothes before we got to Galway.

QUICK SIDENOTE: If someone offered you a lift home from Dublin to Galway, would you assume that they would be bringing you straight home and not ask questions like: "Oh will we be accompanying you to the NCT test?" or "Will we be making a stop in Bangladesh?". I feel as though I was justified in having a shit attack when Joyce decided to tell me that we had to wait and never told me not to wear my pyjamas on the way home.

ANYWAYS. Things only got bloody worse on the food front due to this unforeseen stress of getting up at 7 AM and travelling to Galway still pissed drunk. We were absolutely STARVED when we got into the city and were facing at least an hour’s wait for the blessed test to be complete. Therefore the only option open to us was Centra, where I purchased and inhaled none other than a calorie free (ahem) breakfast roll. Now you can also imagine why I didn’t take a photo of this.

Despite these two pitfalls I gathered myself back together and made a better attempt for the rest of the week. Can I just say, watching your brothers INHALE bread, pasta, pancakes etc and not put on a pound is HIGHLY distressing. 

One of the photos below features the oils, spices and sauces I've been using. These are just a few, but are definitely my favourites: 

Rapeseed oil (chilli and regular, it’s one of the better oils for cooking with).

Char grilled Chicken Seasoning

Extra Spicy Cajun Seasoning 

Spicy Season All (my fave)

Cumin (it's the base of a lot of curry sauces)

Tabasco (I'M ADDICTED)

Soy Sauce

Vegetable Stock Pots

It was my friend Sinead's birthday on Saturday and she is an absolute genius when it comes to making food that suits different dietary requirements (gluten free, dairy free etc). She made a chocolate cake that was literally EVERYTHING free and these little heart chocolates that had blended dates as a substitute for caramel (really really good!) My favourite part was the hummus she made which was blended chickpeas, sundried tomatoes and chilli powder. DIVINE and suited to my dietary requirements (i.e. skinny)

So overall it was pretty good. I'm of the opinion that it's simply ridiculous to live your life eating completely 'clean' and not have the craic and eat a dirty burger every now and again. Have some shredded duck instead of shredded abs :)

And don't be a bollox X

Goodnight Irene

BTW I LOST 2 POUNDS 

Beef stew

2 Poached eggs & beans 

Veg choopped up which I made into soup which in turn was VIOLENT (FAIL)

Healthy food layout (and vodka, my true love) at Sineads 

Close up of prawn omelette 

Spices and oils I commonly use (description above) 

Slender Slim noodles. Despite my captions I actually did end up liking them. 

 Brunch: avocado, poached egg, smoked salmon, olives & left over veg & noodles.