Skip to main content

GF Dater Hater

Not every topic in the world is made for blogging, right? I mean, I think we can all agree my rant about spiders was pretty much for me, although I did appreciate the input from my readers. I'm obviously not the only person alive who feels a pretty serious aversion to the creepies and crawlies; I'm just the only one boring enough to write about it.

Whatever. A swing and a miss.

But here's the thing. I think I've hit on a topic with universal appeal--something everyone is going to want to read about. I'm sure it's obvious to most of you already just what that topic is; but for the rest of you stragglers...

glutenfreesingles.com

If you have trouble separating out those words to make some kind of sense, lemme help. Gluten Free Singles. Dot Com.

Now let me just say something right now. I am the world's BIGGEST fan of the gluten free bandwagoners. I know people are (inexplicably) annoyed by these folks who choose a GF lifestyle; but not me! As a lifelong sufferer of Celiac disease, I am thrilled to no end to see GF food gain popularity. And flavor. And textures other than "I just ate a mouthful of beach."

So GF faddies (not to be confused with fatties or foodies), I salute you. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Because of you, the last five years of my life have been the first five that I've been able to enjoy every meal without dire consequence. You are truly heros.

But really. I mean come on now. A whole dating website geared exclusively toward your (my) digestive needs? Isn't that a little indulgent? And unnecessary? And absurd? Why yes. Yes it is.

I get it, guys. I really do. You've got Christian Mingle and J Date and Black People Meet and the one with the two gray hairs, yukking it up in the convertible. So yeah. There are just too many fish in the sea (see Plenty of Fish's site), and you need a way to narrow it down. You've got better things to do than wade through countless responses from all those Catholics when all you want is someone with whom you can light the menorah. What over-fifties man wants his inbox flooded with mail from those pesky twenty somethings?

It is nice to know you have something in common with the person you're dating though, right? Especially if you're setting yourself up for what are essentially blind dates. In a very uncomfortable situation, I begrudge no one the comfort of a connection over ideals or heritage or generational norms.

So I love GF bandwagoners, and I totally get why people using dating services might choose a more exclusive format than the old Plenty of Fish approach. But guys! Isn't singling yourself out based on your eating habits a good way to, you know, stay single?

I know better than most how important a GF environment is. Such is my level of sensitivity, I cannot even use common pans in the kitchen without consequence. My makeup and shampoo are gluten free, and that's not a lifestyle choice. Even going to these lengths, my body continues to revolt. It's literally the nature of an autoimmune disease. Or diseases, in my case.

Guess who is more annoyed by all those problems than me? I mean, no one. But I bet if you were my roommate or my fiance or even just my friend, you'd get real tired of it. Real tired. Now think it through, GF daters. Do you really want to do that to each other?

Do you really want to spend your days one-upping each other on levels of sensitivity, or arguing about the merits of the perimeter diet vs. the GF substitutes? Are you really prepared to share your bathroom with someone? Do you really want to double the annoyance factor for all your friends by adding a second sensitive tummy to the table?

I guess that last one won't be a problem for you guys. According to the website, glutenfreesingles.com isn't just for dating. You're also going to be able to hook up with gluten-free acitivity partners and glutenfree groups in your area! Yay!

Can I just make one teensy request, GF singles? Could you please, for the love of heaven, refrain from procreating? I'm not prepared to deal with a whole generation of children wearing "Don't Feed Me...Anything" onsies. I just can't imagine having to add something to my syllabus about the decorum of bringing Mommy to class because you're still breastfeeding.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

We're Off to the Icecapades! And Other Roads Paved With Cold Tears.

You know how your Great Aunt Margaret always looks at your baby's long fingers and says she's going to be a piano player? And how that guy bagging your groceries always tells you your slightly-taller-than-average boy is going to be a basketball player? Or how, when you accidentally leave the scissors on the counter and your toddler gets ahold of them, she's going to be a Monster Truck driver for three months because of that sweet mullet she gives herself? Well...I've got a long-legged African baby. And let me tell you, folks, she's destined to be a runner. At least that's what I've been told by no less than three thousand people in the last two years. If qualifying for the Olympics happened based on popular vote of the people, Ayana would have run last year. It would have been a staggering disappointment for Americans everywhere, but she'd have been there. (Shut up, fact checkers. I know the summer Olympics didn't happen last year.) But here&#

31 Things I Learned Before 32

Tomorrow, I turn 32. So with no more ado or fanfare than that, I share with you 31 things I've learned in 31 years of life. In no particular order and with no promised gravity. The Golden Rule doesn't ensure you'll get treated the way you wish to be treated. It just means you can sleep at night, knowing you did right. Sandal tans garner an inexplicable degree of respect and admiration. The book is always better than the movie. So all you book snobs out there can just hush up about it. We know. (Yes, I'm a total book snob. But I'm so snobby I don't even try the movie. You're welcome.) If you don't water the plants, the plants die. When you're going through some shit and people tell you, "I could never do what you doing," the appropriate response is: "Yes you could. You just haven't had to." Dog people have hair all over everything and cat peoples' houses smell funny (which is a nice way of saying bad ). Children a

When Your Daughter Isn't Turning Into You, But You're Turning Into Your Mother

And by you , of course   I mean me . So here's the story as it has been told to me over the years. For reasons that were undoubtedly religiously motivated, my mom decided she was going to home school my brother and me. She started with Jesse at whatever early age because he was reading in the womb and dividing cheerios in his highchair and blah, blah, blah. It was so much fun and he was so smart and remember the time he related the word sequel to the  Back to the Future series?! What a genius! What pure joy to watch this child learn! And then I came along. There are no stories about my great mental prowess, my clever anecdotes. There is only one story. The story that ends quite abruptly at, "And then I enrolled you both in school." Thinking on it now, I'm not sure we can even call it a story. It's really just a crude reenactment of a poor young child struggling to read the word bug . "B-U-G. B-U-G. You kept saying the sounds, but you just couldn't put