I learnt that scheduling weekly calls with a friend is useful for preserving one’s sanity, but similarly beneficial is the intermittent sharing of amusing cat memes.
Crying is ugly. Crying is so ugly that even when Kim Kardashian does it, it’s meme-worthy. I think my ugliest cry was last month, on the 24th of September. Or maybe it was the 25th of August; both of these dates had a lot in common. I couldn’t ask my Mum for a tissue because she was sitting two metres away on a chair on a square of floor marked by tape. I couldn’t wipe my nose properly because I was wearing a face mask.
I know I use music as a safety blanket when I’ve had my heart broken, it provides me with an outlet, a way of dealing with my pain through the words of others, often those who also sound pretty in pain too.
Alison Hall writes a tongue in cheek review of some classic Oxford date spots, being sure to note that she is “not endorsing clandestine shagging during a socially distanced Michaelmas, you filthy rascals”.
If coordination were possible, an agreement between all users to send fewer and higher-quality messages would generate the greatest benefit to the dating pool as a whole. That’s not to discourage some of the most disastrously bizarre Tinder messages, which have provided hours of entertainment to users and meme pages across the globe.
Never in my 19 years on planet Earth have I come across as great a drama queen as Catullus. One minute he’s head over heels in love, the next minute he’s shouting ‘she belong to the streets,’ and the next he’s begging her for affection.
As if 2020 couldn’t feel more like a prolonged fever dream, the Dutch government has advised single people to find “sex buddies” as part of their “intelligent” lockdown.
Sasha Mills talks us through the shitshow that is working through the five stages of a lockdown break up.
With so many of these services out there, we decided to ask some questions of our own so that you can decide whether OxMatch is a match for you.
I’m drawn towards the sincerity of the handwritten sentiment, be that loving or loathing, and the fragility of the material article, its capacity to be lost and found in life’s flotsam and jetsam, rather than the text which loiters in cyberspace.