You guys…the time has come. 

I’ve been told to write about this hobby of mine for many moons, I just figured I HAD to make it music related. Which brings us here. While I will never in a million years make a playlist dedicated to my time on this app, I have many that reflect the poor choices that have been made. Where to begin?

It all started in 2016. If anyone gasps, please leave. It’s hard out here, okay?? The app is fresh, and so am I (ew). At the time, nobody really knew about it, or was willing to accept it. Tinder was running the show, for who knows what reason. So, we abandoned Bumble too. Flash forward to post-college life. I am back in Orange County, and I know nobody. For some deranged reason, I think it’s time to find friends on this app. WHY? I have no idea. While I won’t get too touchy on the people I met in this particular time period, what I will say is that a fantastic playlist came out of this. With all the trial and error that ensued, rightfully so, I made my form of a coping mechanism. At the time, it was titled, “The Purge.” Since then, it has transformed into something all of you know and love, but I won’t spoil that just yet. 

Now, the years kind of all blend together at this point. However, I believe Bumble was still in it’s beginning stages when this happened. “The Purge” and I became VERY close after this one incident. My parents are going to be trembling at this one, but I lived so it’s fine, right? I met this guy, who seemed to be the whole package. Nowadays, I know that the whole package doesn’t exist on Bumble, and that should have been a red flag. While I was having a night on the town, he told me, I should come hang out after. Again, questionable, we know better now ladies. So, I start heading over there. Don’t worry, I was designated driver this night. Apparently, my timing was not good enough for this specimen, since he had been harassing me for over an hour. I show up to said location, to an empty lot. Mom? Dad? Are you still reading or did you die? In this empty parking lot, I text him questioning where the eff he is. I get a paragraph back. Basically calling me every terrible name in the book, and proceeding to tell me he is watching my car, with a loaded gun, from a different location. I CANNOT MAKE THIS SHIT UP. I will also add that this man happened to be a Marine, go America amirite. Without responding, I put my Jetta in reverse as fast as I could, and hauled ass out of there. BLASTING what is at the time, “The Purge.” My life is lovely, right?

With that man blocked, reported, and out of the way; I took a well deserved dating break. Maybe I was meant to be single forever. Absolutely did not last long. Something about this app is addicting, social media is crazy. I redownload the app, and make a new account. While nobody in particular catches my attention, I decide that maybe it’s time to pay attention to the guys in my real life, who seem like decent human beings. SWEETIE, NOT A CHANCE. I am not the type to name names, but you know who you are and you know what you did. LMAO. Don’t @ me. HOWEVER, these real life men gave “The Purge,” the glow up she deserved. Anyone a fan of my playlist, “BBE”? I know there’s some of you. While titling this playlist after a horror movie, to signify cutting off people was great, it was time for a change. Now, “BBE” is about embracing your inner baddie, man or no man. Unfortunately, it just took a few frogs to realize that. 

At this point, I am just taking it as a sign, I am forever in debt to this damn app. She made me the woman I am today, I gotta be grateful. So, it’s 2019. Guess where we are? Oh, did you guess VEGAS? You know me so well. It’s Life is Beautiful time baby! What some would now say is my favorite festival of all time, don’t come for me Coachella, you’re still my baby. I am feeling refreshed, after listening to Gryffin for the whole 4 hour drive. I am seeing the strip, and you know I’m tearing up. It was a long year of grieving for me. If you know, you know. I was ready to finish the back half of the year strong. So, it’s Day 1, and I already met a guy at the festival. Being the actual loser I am, I cannot tell if we’re vibing or it’s just the festival candy speaking. So, I don’t say shit. Classic. Fast forward, the day after it all ends. I am, of course, depressed on my friend’s couch. Humbling. So, what do I do to make myself feel better? You know it, I started swiping. Who do I see? Festival bae?? Can’t be. We match, and in the split second I am screaming in the groupchat, I feel my serotonin creeping in. Hey girlie. While nothing exciting happens, and he doesn’t try to kill me, to this day we still hype each other up on IG. What more could you ask for honestly.

That brings me to today, many playlists have been made, and “BBE” is still thriving. However, I find myself reaching for more mellow tunes, when dealing with Bumble boys. Maybe it’s to hold on to the little sanity I still have left. It’s quarantine, and we’re all lonely. So, the apps are POPPIN. Getting the notifications on my watch is overwhelming, humble brag. However, even in quarantine, none of us can get it right. I am grouping myself in with the men. Clearly at this point, it must be my choices. While nobody has been particularly disturbing, there was one that seemed to be nicer than the rest. Even that couldn’t last though, because the universe had other plans. I KNOW, SO VAGUE. I can’t give you guys EVERYTHING. I will say, the Bumble frustrations in quarantine are leading me on many more heart rate fueled walks. To which, I am blasting my new favorite playlist, “HOEVID-19.” I try to update as often as I can, to keep things interesting. It seems to be what I am constantly reaching for, when I am either ignoring someone, or just need to power walk away from my feelies. Don’t act like you haven’t been there too. 

While I would love to disclose every single wild encounter I have, those special ones are reserved for my close friends who have to deal with me. Whether I am screaming about “hating” men, or screaming about them and running back to them, THE STORIES ARE ENDLESS.

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