Social Media Savvy…keeping it real.

It’s almost dark out and I’m just thinking how nice it is that we are finally getting some daylight back. I can’t stand leaving work in the dark. First of all I’m a terrible night driver – something I will NOT admit in front of my hubby because it tends to encourage him to ‘tease’ me by making some terribly disparaging comments about women drivers, and I can’t afford a divorce – and it makes me feel all sleepy and want to put on my jammies as soon as I get home.

I’ve picked up D and we are on our way to pick up K from her after-school program. I look forward to these few minutes every day to be alone with my hubby and chat about our days. Sometimes we just use the time to figure out what we’ll make for supper, and that’s good too. I never like walking into our house at the end of the day without a ‘plan’.

“Have you heard anything about this ‘Tinder’ app,” he says.

“No. What is that?” I reply.

“I don’t know. I keep seeing it all over FB and stuff. I’m downloading it now on my phone,” he continues. I can hear him going through all of the steps to ‘register’ himself and proudly he announces that he has successfully signed up and that he can start ‘tindering’ whatever that means.

About a minute passes while I am navigating through traffic on Summit and it is starting to get darker, and then he shows me a cool-looking radar/ sonar-type image radiating out from an ‘anonymous’ placeholder avatar. We both agree that it appears as though the app may be looking for something – I helpfully suggest that it is possibly looking for other Tinder users.

It just so happens that we recently saw a movie on NetFlix called “Hit and Run,” with Bradley Cooper (…who is maybe in my top 40 list of favourite actors because of Limitless, American Hustle and Silver Linings Playbook …and the Hangover movies… Incidentally, this movie is pretty funny, but if you are looking for something intellectual, this is not the movie for you). One of the characters in the movie is using a similar type of app on his phone (maybe it was even Tinder, but I wasn’t paying THAT much attention) and he finds a ‘match’ with another gay man in his area.

I gently suggest again (okay, maybe a tiny bit sardonically this time), that perhaps my darling hubby is actually ‘trolling’ for other Tinder users (unbeknownst, or purposely?) and that he may, in fact, be leading these poor strangers on. Catfish and Fatal Attraction scenarios begin to play themselves out in my head, while D continues to go through the app, and randomly, thoughtlessly, alternates between selecting a heart (for ‘like’, presumably) and an ‘x’ (for ‘pass’) on a bunch of strangers’ photos that start popping up on his screen.

We get to K’s school and when K gets in the car, Daddy excitedly tells her that he is now ‘tindering’ and that he is going to make some new friends. Clearly, he thinks this is hilarious. I thank my stars again that she is 6 and is thus, so far, spared the embarrassment of knowing that Daddy is trolling the dating sites. Lord knows she is going to have her hands full when Daddy starts ‘feeding’ her false information for her social studies assignments and about her mommy being a crack addict (yes, just for kicks – he’s already talked about these moments in gleeful anticipation – and no, I DON’T really need an intervention, unless you are talking about chocolate, coffee, or NetFlix’s original show series).

D mentions again that he can’t wait to make some new friends and chat with them, so that he can ask his new friends how long they have been ‘tindering’. He is now part of the Tinder club and he is super cool and ‘with it’. (Evidently, the fact that I have just used the words ‘super cool’ and ‘with it’ makes me, like, the anti-cool [person], I think).

Nothing else is said about Tinder for the rest of the night except the occasional lament from D that Tinder hasn’t found any ‘matches’ yet. We joke that it would be funny if our elderly neighbour popped up as a match, or a relative, or something. We joke that it would be funny, too if my picture popped up as a match, like that pina colada song. I start to find this whole thing funny, and it’s such a D thing to do! I can’t wait to ask people at work about it, and ask them what they know of this app, and hey, isn’t this a hoot? My hubby has signed up! Silly man!

The next morning, D is very excited. Tinder has found him 3 new friends (matches – both women and men)!! I’m pretty sure that D knows that this is a ‘hookup’ app and that he is just pulling my leg, but after I roll my eyes a few times because I’m pretty sure he likes it when I do that, I send him a Tinder wikipedia link anyway, just to be sure.

Shortly afterwards, he texts me to let me know that he has deleted the app entirely from his phone.

I start to feel a little bad for giving him a hard time about it and tell him that he didn’t have to delete it because of me.
Which is kind of ironic, really, since I’m his WIFE and Tinder is a hookup app…

Turns out one of his new friends, whose profile says that he was looking for a ‘Top Dude’, began to ask when he was off of work. D was getting a bit freaked out.

I told him that he’ll always be ‘top shelf’ in my eyes. 😉

I guess we are too married to be super cool and ‘with it’ when it comes to certain technology. Still though, that sonar thingy looked pretty cool.

Anyone know of any other cool apps that use that radar/sonar searchy thingy, and that would be appropriate for us way-uncool demographics? We’d like to look cool without having to actually deliver, you see…too much work, for one…

For those who have heard of Tinder but do not know what it is, check out these possibly interesting or at least slightly amusing articles:

You’ve now been warned.

Also…this gal is hilarious. She is my blog hero, I think:

Every story starts with one word…

..or one image…or maybe even a sound, which may lead to an image or a word…

Forgive me reader(s?), but I have sinned. It has been YEARS since my last entry.  I’m not sure which is worse…suffering from a lack of big ideas, or suffering from the deeply held belief that I have nothing original (or interesting, or worthwhile) to say. And for that matter, I’m not sure which of those two creative impediments are holding me back the most.  Painting is easier to some degree than writing, because it is imperative for me to express myself that way at least a few times a year. Call it a visual purge or technicolour self-love, but there it is for all the world to see. I have to admit, writing and telling my story fulfills a biological need for me just as much as the next girl, and using words is just as imperative to my psyche as painting is, but it is much less work and takes less commitment in order to delete (or burn) a paragraph or two (or ten pages, as it were) than whitewashing another canvas. Plus I’m sort of shy. (Quit snickering, dear hubby – it’s true!) Using a visual medium means that I don’t have to commit to any one meaning, and the viewer can impose a much more intelligent meaning on the work than what may have been originally intended. (Me: What do YOU think that painting of a chicken represents? ;-))

Yes, dear reader, there have been many false starts, jumbled attempts to make sense of the world, musings and depressingly meaningless (?) little observations. But finally….wait for it….

this heroine is finding her voice (or a soapbox to stand on?) and she is ready to try again. As part of an 8-week series called The You Show (, I’ve just participated/ witnessed a wonderful presentation by Alan Levine (I keep thinking Adam Levine – any relation?) about Storymaking. And guess what? As part of the work in this initiative, they want to see the attempts! They want to hear the meta-talk, not so much the finished product! I can do that! I’m supposed to make mistakes! They may even help me be more succinct and effective in what and how I communicate as a result! (a tall order)

For better or for worse, I have now semi-committed to posting sorry little epitaphs to past life events and possibly self-absorbed (most definitely self-indulgent) broodings about my life and passions for all the world to see. Now doesn’t that make you want to follow my story?

You’re welcome.