I live in a metropolis, so every major dating app is available to me and people like me. Technology of course changes how we behave. Early technology- the hand- mind over vagina- oh, yes it can be done, thus enabling one to concentrate on oneself and one’s work without unnecessary emotional distraction. Then batteries- the dildo. Now, apps and the age of ultra disposable (and when in LA- yes- “plastic”) humans.

Hinge starts in London this week. A news tagline says “Tinder is for hook-ups, Hinge is for relationships”. Are you supposed to act differently when everyone on Hinge is probably also on Tinder?  I’m not sure I want a whole relationship. Is there a site for friends w/ benefits, that you can trust who are comfortable? Wait, is that a relationship?

I downloaded and Facebook logged onto Happn. There are a lot of commercial, television and film shoots that go on where I live.  I got a stuntman on my Happn.  Holy grail – stuntman, like ballerina for straight guys? They’re rare. What’s your holy grail? Everyone’s an entrepreneur, owner of their own entertainment company, a writer, a performer in big cities. This is over-saturation of certain professional types. I suppose in college towns, you get a bunch of professors and grad students, the brainy set. In LA, we get the money set and the flashy set.

In LA – this is a normal rule: No actors/no musicians. But wait, unless he’s a ‘composer’- it’s ok. Distinction here, alright (even if he is also in some indie rock band with other highly attractive guys who wear striped shirts, yes?).  Said composer says “Hi!” on my Hinge this week. I forgave him for that. Guys love using exclamation points in this day and age, I noticed. When did this start? Writing professors told us not to do that.

I text like I write screenplays now-a-days. Ain’t it awful? Texting a guy back is like practicing parallel dialogue.

Other LA rules: Don’t shit where you eat.  Used to think I should be with another writer, but in LA that’s bad. You don’t want to see someone you were with where things went south– at a pitch meeting, in a writers’ room, etc.. I was with a musician turned mathematician who never read my stuff. Guess, I just wanted someone to workshop writing with, and I can find that platonically, thank goodness. Different friends for different things.

Imagine if the treacheries of Ancient Rome involved dating apps. Imagine the paranoia of love escalated in Shakespeare plays if dating apps where part of “to be or not to be?” or Romeo and Juliet?

What if Anais Nin had this many dating apps? Sylvia Plath? Joan Didion?

Here’s the dating app run down:

Coffee Meets Bagel– utterly disappointing- one ‘bagel’ sent a day and never my taste- delete. Turned it back on after hearing about them turning down Mark Cuban. Still sent a gross person per day despite all my clicking “not my type” each time. Re-delete.

Clover– randoms from everywhere, every age range – way too many notifications – delete

Happn– hilarious- do you ever have to meet people in real life (IRL) again? Happn does make you leave the house because the more you’re out there, the more your selection of people you rack up to choose from because they’re “right under your nose”.  Told my neighbor to make this app- b/c I saw a cute guy at a party and didn’t feel like lining up to talk to him then. Found out more about him online later- became un-attracted to him. Thanks, internet. Delete him in my brain.

OKC–  constant onslaught of frightful weirdos. Have turned it back on when bored- nothing changes. Deleted, re-deleted.

I actually met someone in IRL, “in real life” – I was doing a “sitting by my self looking at books whilst my friend socializes” thing. It was an across the room thing.  He came up and sat right next to me, very close to me in fact- no fear. When he talked to other people, he would glance at me. He hugged me good night, not other people. It’s on. He’s a little too funny, no signs or moroseness yet. Meeting in IRL in our accelerated dating/mating world is already like a first dating, don’t you agree? I already got to smell him, hear him, for a spell, touch him for a multitude of seconds when we were pressed together. We’ll see how far that gets ‘im this week when we go out on Thursday. This one’s a self sustaining artist who’s exhibited internationally. Oddly, matched with one of those on Tinder this week. We do not talk. Then the world sends me another one at a gallery show near my house.

Nin: “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”  Now, we scroll through our lists of “matches”, “crushes”, whatever the app semantics are- to do this.

Nin (in her diary): “We hate you. Sex loses all its power and magic when it becomes explicit, mechanical, overdone, when it becomes a mechanistic obsession.” Playing with dating/hook-up apps is a mechanistic obsession. Have you tried data hacking one of your matches to see how often they’re on there?…

No doubt soon we shall have 50 Shades of Dating Apps, each with their own words, graphic designs, looks and feels that prevent us from having to be in a room or on a sidewalk with someone experiencing their looks, longing for their feels.

When in LA, listen to Gore Vidal, “Never pass up the opportunity to have sex or appear on television.”… well, unless the opportunity is with someone gross who hits you up on OKC. And be careful about appearing to have sex on television… whatever television – stuff you can watch anywhere, even on your phone. Oh, tech sex.

Editor's Note: plz send all comments and questions for our Sex Columnists to other[at]queenmobs[dot]com

Cornelia grew up in the wooded lands of The Blair Witch and the times of the nineties. She's learning the trials and tribulations of phone app dating on the dirty streets of Downtown Los Angeles, whilst making sure Hollywood stays Satanic and playing the theremin.