Introducing: Single in Sin City.

They say you should write drunk and edit sober, so I'm writing this with a glass of wine in my hand but probably not planning on editing sober (update: I edited sober). My life feels sloppy right now, much like how this post might turn out is. But that's the beauty of it, I suppose. It's honest if nothing else.

A while ago I was introduced to a little dating app called Tinder. I was super reluctant at first because it felt like a hook-up scheme. I had the impression that everyone on there would be sleazy, gross, and only after one thing - which stands to reason if we're being honest here. I'm sure half the dudes who "swipe right" just think you're hot and easy, and hey, it's easier than actually meeting someone face to face and pursuing them like a normal human being, right? But I decided to give it a try after hearing a few success stories from people I actually trust.

I set up my lame ass profile and had no idea what the hell to reveal about myself so I went with a spin on my Twitter bio: "Hilary Duff lookalike & burrito connoisseur. Social media & UFC ass-kicking." Enough to create a conversation starter or two? I guess, but I still felt extremely lame (and still do). But I swear to god if I had a nickel for every profile I've seen that had "KCCO" or "It's going down, I'm yelling TINDER!" as their description, I would be rich as fuck by now. At least I tried to be somewhat creative and descriptive of myself.

I won't lie - I did not "swipe right" on anyone the first time I sat down and scrolled through because I was nervous. I didn't actually know what the hell I was in for or what the repercussions would be if I did. But then of course I found a dude I thought was super cute and said "fuck it." We were matched. He never said anything. So I moved on and swiped right a few more times. All the sudden I got sucked in like it was a god damn game and I was swiping left and right like it was my job - and hilariously enough not even talking to anyone I was matched with. I kind of liked it that way because if nothing else it was showing me that there's more men in Vegas than I previously thought - albeit not a plethora of my type. Lot's of weirdos, beardos, UNLV students (NO!), and dudes just passing through for the weekend (no surprise there). Side note: Tinder forces you to be shallow and judge if you're interested in someone based on their appearance in 1-4 photos. I really don't like that quality in myself or in others, so I find it difficult to take it seriously.

But I grew bold. I started a few conversations, responded to a few creative opening lines. I thought, what the hell, at least this might help me loosen up and learn how to have a normal conversation with a guy which is something I'm terrible at unless I have zero attraction to them whatsoever. I started getting pretty good. Then I got asked on my first "Tinder date" which was kind of exciting. I took a deep breath, consulted my best friend, and finally said yes. But then in true Tinder fashion, immediately started a new conversation with someone else who also asked me on a date within the first half hour of talking. I said yes again.

I felt empowered because why the hell should I NOT be casually dating and seeing multiple people at once? I need the practice and I'm not meeting anyone organically anyways. Seemed like a good idea so I mustered up all my courage and went for it. Everyone I talked to encouraged me and thought it was a bold step forward for the ol' Chelsea-Chels.

Anyways, I'll skip the painfully awkward details of both dates and move ahead to now. I'm realizing I am terrible at this. I'm not cut out for it. I have 15 guys messaging me on Tinder asking me about burritos and I'm completely overwhelmed to the point where I kind of want to vomit. I am not meant to juggle a bunch of dudes or casually date several at once. It's just not who I am. So while my phone is sitting beside me buzzing non-stop with new matches and the 300th dude named Zach to send me a message, I feel like a giant idiot for whatever mess I've clearly gotten myself into.

I feel like Tinder (in Vegas at least, maybe everywhere) is almost like this whole community of dating rejects like myself who can't get their shit together. I don't want to date those people, so why would they want to date me? Sadly, fellow Tinderellas, we're probably in for another lonely year.

I had a pretty sad thought today yesterday while I was contemplating how guy from date #2 turned down my super fun (and cute, if I do-say-so-myself) offer to be my date to the UFC fight tomorrow night tonight. Side note: What kind of guy would turn down the chance to be my date at a UFC fight? Even if he ends up never wanting to see me again, I can't think of a more fun way to get to know someone better. I need a man who can appreciate hanging out in my comfort zone. Back to my thought: I'm just better at being single. I can't take the drama and stress and anxiety of the aftermath (you know, the did-he-or-didn't-he, will-he-or-won't-he call again situation). If this is the new wave of what it means to be "dating" then I'm not sure I'm going to survive it. I'm good at being single. I've been on my own for a really long time and quite honestly, I'm scared shitless. I'm scared of being alone, and I'm scared of letting my guard down long enough to find someone worthwhile. I'm trying my damnedest to put myself out there and be confident and cool and awesome and sexy and whatever the fuck else everyone wants me to be and it's just not working because it's not who I am. I'm not a product of the shallow Las Vegas lifestyle, I'm just a regular chick trying to make it in the world of 20-something lostness.

So while my head was spinning yesterday afternoon wondering if I've actually been rejected by guy #2 or if I'm just rejecting myself at this point, I decided that I can't give up on this new found boldness. Not yet. So henceforth, my new thought process will be to go on dates, have some crazy experiences, and not care what the outcome is, because at least I'll come away from it with a story to write about in my newly transformed blog: Single in Sin City. Ready for a ride? I hope I am too.