For those of you who have no idea what Tinder is, first off, congratulations, you clearly are in a loving relationship. Tinder is not a man. It's not a lady. Actually, it is not a human. It is an app. In fact, I'm pretty sure the original design of the app was for ye olde 'bootycall' in a true 2014 'technological era' style. But the app took off, and now Tinder is used by pretty much everyone, students, teachers, adults, teenagers, single people, relationship people (although this still baffles me), and now it's pretty much seen as a game. A game which should be mortifyingly embarrassing- would you ever catch a 19 year old saying they're online dating? But is actually very common place.

I have a Tinder. In fact, I go through phases of Tinder addiction. Particularly when it's my time of the month, sometimes being grossly over complimented by a stranger through the medium of text can make your evening a little bit brighter (especially when said stranger doesn't realise you're sat in bed eating Haagen Dazs from the tub and crying over Titanic). 



I downloaded Tinder with full, complete knowledge of what it was. You judge someone on their looks, and if you mutually like each other on the app, you can message. I later (quickly) found there were various forms of Tinder people. The creeps. The genuine 'I want a girl/boyfriend will you be my girl/boyfriend forever please' boys. The ones simply in it just for sex. And then the rest of us, who don't actually know what we're doing there and aren't looking for anything but let's face it, if a really super attractive person popped up, we'd probably all reply. Even celebrities have it. A couple of months ago Example wrote a tweet about it, and even I matched with a guy from The Lovable Rogues (a Britains Got Talent mildly successful band). And yet, despite being fully clued in to the app, I still delete it on a weekly basis. 

So why do I delete it? I suppose it's because every so often, I have a deep talk with myself and realise Tinder is quite simply a shallow, self indulgent app. Obviously, it's why I love it. But it's probably, definitely, not going to lead to anything, and if it does, do we really want to be telling our future children how we met? I'd be prepared to lie for generations rather than tell somebody I met my life partner through an app. I constantly complain about the lack of believability in films (where is my Noah? My name is practically Allie), but the chances of the love of my life accidentally knocking into me in a coffee shop one day or sitting next to me on an aeroplane by chance are pretty slim if it's through Tinder. Because, yknow, on Tinder we'd probably both be in our bedrooms. Bored.


Despite the doubts and the constant deleting of the app, there is no doubt I love to hate it. The judging, the cruel 'unmatching marathon' after a drunken Tinder Fest. The realisation you and your best friend are both chatting away to the same bloke. The awkward 'we have 86 mutual friends, skip skip skip SKIP'. But that's quite literally what we all signed up for. I may not meet my true love on Tinder (mainly because I don't want to), but there's no denying, once you get through the creepy sex driven guys and gals, it is definitely good fun. And nobody can even be embarrassed about the concept, because so-bloody-many of us have it. 

I hope you've all had wonderful weekends!

Last weeks blog interview has given me the motivation I needed and now I am just so excited to be back full time on Alice's Antics.

Ciao for Now!
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