We live our lives online, so naturally, online dating is becoming our primary source of meeting others. I have been on most dating sites and some are good, some not so much. Tinder remains on the top five dating sites out there, so I’m sharing my personal experience. THE TRUTH ABOUT TINDER Did you like me on Tinder? If you are a man in my geographical area, odds are you did. The first week I joined I received over 400 likes and nothing speaks desperation like that, does it? If I want to hook up and leave, there’s no better place to go. If you’re going to Tinder looking for a real connection, then sorry — you’ve lost your damn mind. Tinder was created with the hit and quit it hookup in mind and trust me no matter what he puts in his profile, that’s what he’s looking for. Crap, that’s what I was looking for let’s be honest. Here are some universal truths about Tinder and most online dating sites. If the picture looks too good to be true, it probably is. People lie. A large majority are going to be married pretending to be single. They have a handful of others on the hook while they’re talking to you. The usual way it goes on Tinder is you like someone’s picture and if they like you back, you’re a match. Then you can message each other and often you will get one or two messages and that’s it unless you come out strong on the sexting and I guarantee you get your man. Tinder is oozing with low attention spans. I can pretty much guarantee he is going to ask for pictures, and not of your face. What issue does the author find with using Tinder? - People don't message you enough - People lie about about their appearance and dating status - not enough information - People are looking for real life connections
People lie about about their appearance and dating status

I end this small run of blog posts with the question posed by Professor Brian Boyd at the beginning of our evening: Do we want to close the achievement gap? We know we can close the gap. It’s been done or almost been done before in Scottish education, but the answers have been ignored as they pass us by. The simple clue is this: poverty is single biggest predictor of achievement, and according to research (Hammonds sic, reference required), aged 10, a child living in poverty is 60% less likely to get to university. Boyd borrowed from his own mother’s report card to ask us what kind of education we desire. Is it the academic success at all costs route, or is there another option we need to value as much, if not more? His mother’s report card, one that prevented her from becoming a secondary school pupil in Glasgow, is filled with G and FG, until the last point: Character and conduct - excellent. What kind of pupils do we want to develop in Scotland? What do we value in our assessment system? Opening up opportunity for all is a tough game to play when the examination system rewards only certain types of behaviour, few of them related to what the Curriculum for Excellence says we stand for. In his own small community in East Kilbride, three secondary schools enter a period of meltdown as the local rag sets about creating its own local league table of performance, with those three ‘teams’ in competition for the top spot (or at least not the bottom one). Therefore, we must stop basing “the gap” largely on attainment. First of all, Boyd would like us to remove the traditional, and non-sensical academic/vocational divide. Is the law or medicine degree we value not vocational? (Are all General Practitioners not Plumbers, as Dr Murray on the panel suggests?) After the end of this story, Boyd probably is - Nervous - not enough information - Worried - Hopeful
Worried

Greg Tenorly drove the familiar route from the church to his music studio, studying the homes along the way. He wondered about the families who lived in each one. Like that two-story brick on the corner. What secrets were they hiding? Was the husband abusive? Did a teenager use drugs? Was the family nearly bankrupt? How could anyone know? It was better not to know. The mind can only handle so many problems at one time. He wondered where Troy and Cynthia Blockerman lived. Greg had appeared at the courthouse that morning as part of a jury pool, only to be released. He and the rest of his group would have to return the next morning. He hoped they would not need him. The church would pay his regular part-time salary while he was serving on a jury, but any private lessons he missed would be money lost. Greg's red 1965 Pontiac Bonneville convertible always turned heads as he drove through the small town. He had purchased it two months earlier from a career Navy man down in Longview who had babied the thing for years. It spent most of its life in the man's garage, coming out only when he was on leave. Most trips were to the car wash or the Pontiac dealer for scheduled maintenance. Greg gladly paid $4,000 for it. The sailor called him the very next day and tried to buy it back. He said it was like losing a member of the family. Greg felt bad, but not bad enough to give up the car. How could a 40-year-old car have only 93,000 miles on it? It was dazzling. His little studio was near the town square, nestled between Coreyville Hardware and Susie's Sewing Box. Occasionally he and a student could hear a pipe wrench or hammer hitting the floor on the hardware side. But things were always quiet from Susie's side. At least the soundproofing he had installed kept his neighbors from hearing his students. You can't teach music without hearing both beautiful sounds and sour notes. Why Greg's car turned heads? - It made a lot of noise - It was new - not enough information - It was a convertible

It was a convertible