Online Dating: (re)Post II

THURSDAY, AUGUST 23, 2012

Shopping. But First, An Explanation.

Week 2 has passed. And it's been an accumulating-ly interesting experience. I'll tell you all about it, including - shockingly - my first (online) date, but first: an explanation.

The Window Shopper persona does describe me well. I am a hopeless romantic and I do believe in fate. I think that the universe will send you on your way and into love when it is ready - not when you are - and thus, online dating might just be a lesson in futility for those who take it too seriously. That might seem cynical to some, but it is simply my personal belief that we are all Fate's bitches. And when the time is right, *he will find me and no amount of looking will take me to him. *He, of course, being my "soul mate". (Yes, I believe in that too.)

With that said, I have made my way to love - or rather the Universe has sent it to me - three times in my life. I was 17 the first time I fell in love: It was fast and ferocious and ended in absolute heartbreak in mere months, when he went back to his ex (who he described to me as psycho) and proposed her four months later. (They divorced after a few years.) About eight months later, I began to date the next man I loved. We dated for nearly three years - till it ended with my total devastation...continued on a bit later (if you know what I mean) and ended when I was the devastator. About a year after our official break up I started to date the man I now refer to as The Ex. We were together for five years; we lived together for three. (Six months of which we were broken up: I do not suggest this scenario.)

I think it is safe to surmise that I am, in fact, in love with love.

Love became a habit I had to break. I made a conscious decision that the time after The Ex would be spent alone, dating and gathering all these stories and experiences of which to share with my eventual children. In that time, I have never online dated - not because I judge it, per say - because I don't believe that it is the story that I want to have. What if oops! I did find my mate online - because the Universe is also a silly bitch, along with being controlling and stubborn - and then what a story that wouldn't be. So, then, I find it surprising that I went on my first online date last night.

Two months ago I told my mother that I would never online date and if she found me doing so to shoot me (or something just as melodramatic and if it happened, I would be 35 and seeking a sperm). Then, a month ago, when we decided to do the "Book Club", I declared on my (personal) blog "I have no intentions on going on any dates" and was simply there to watch from the observation deck of dating. So I find it strange that after a little over a week online, I agreed to a date. And after two weeks online, I went on the date. And, even more surprisingly, on the heels of week three, I actually enjoyed the date. It started with apple pie and hot toddies (I wasn't feeling well, but don't like to break commitments) and ended with a kiss. A good one.

Go figure.

I'm supposed to have another first date next week. And I begin to wonder how a person who takes love so seriously, can actually like a guy and just keep moving (or date more than one). Maybe I can't: A quagmire indeed.

(Life &) Online Dating

Work and life and et cetera have been so insanely busy of late that I haven't barely had the time to think, let alone write.  Last week I worked at least a 12 hour day every day while (poorly) battling a flu that downed me for the weekend - and every moment prior since Monday that I wasn't at work. I'm back up and kicking again tho: Braving 12 hour days this week too, but now armed with an equipped immune system, despite a lingering cough and my complete inability to smell or taste anything (Day 6). I have, however, lost about 5 pounds since last week. Some might consider this preparation for Vegas - which I'll be going to after the holidays for work, but I'm considering it prep for next week. I plan to work from home and eat. A lot.

Last week I wasn't hungry due to the flu. Once I was, I lost my sense of taste and mostly out of stubbornness refuse to eat anything that might actually taste good because what's the damn point? I'll show that fried chicken who's boss: YOU'RE NOT GETTING EATEN ::shovels in more quinoa::.  I have, however gone through copious amount of gross and expired foods I'd collected over the past two years. So there's a positive, though later exclaimed: I JUST WANT TO EAT SOME MOTHER FUCKING PIZZA WITH SOME MOTHER FUCKING RANCH AND BE ABLE TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THAT AND MOLDY CARDBOARD!

Seriously though.

 I'm ready for my sense of smell and taste to come back now. I could stink to high heaven and not even know it. And like a booger hanging out of the nose, most people are too afraid of awkward to say anything. Me? I'm all: HEY, MISTER, I DON'T KNOW YOU BUT YOU GOT A BAT IN THE CAVE, MK.

I just got totally sidetracked. The point of all that is to say that I don't have time: Go figure. And the blog my friends and I had made when we began our little Book Club of online dating kinda fizzled because we busy people, yo. Also, I have given up on online dating. That shit is not for me. At all.

However, I did manage to go on some dates and while I was never interested before, I can certainly say this quenched any curiosity may have (ever) had about online dating. It will also make for a educated chapter in The Book.  While I'm busy with life,  allow me to present to you my short foray into online dating by sharing the blogs I managed to pen in the few months I could stomach the experience.

Here's number 1. (PS I'm "The Window Shopper" dating type according to the OkCupid quiz, which is actually stupid accurate.)

THURSDAY, AUGUST 16, 2012 

Window Shopping, Week 1 

So it's been a little over a week since I signed up for OkC. I have had probably 100s of visitors to my page and 75 messages: Three of which I found potentially interesting. It used to be four: We started a conversation last week about Running with Scissors, that I later gave up on, finding it only mildly interesting (the convo, not the book). 

The fourth dropped off yesterday when I conversation went as follows: 

Guy: Well hello again 

Me: Hello.  

Guy: How are you doing today? 

Me: Well. And yourself? 

Guy: Not so hot, just kind of relaxing. Been a bit of a stressful day, and tomorrow will be just as much fun.  

Me: Sorry to hear. Eat ice cream. It makes everything better.  

Guy: But I have no ice cream, are you buying? :P 

Me: Nope! Maybe throw some ice and milk in a bag - see what happens. haha.  

Guy: So mean, why not help me out? 

Here's the Window Shopper's advice, guys: No one wants to be your mother. No one wants to clean up after you. And no one, particularly a stranger you're trying to get to like you, wants to listen to you whine. Get your own damn ice cream and call your mother, is all I really wanted to type. Instead, radio silence. You're 28, cheer yourself up. Or find a hug. 

Or perhaps I should drop it down to two. Because I was having the best exchange between myself and this guy up until I got bored at work and typed a response that probably amused myself more than him, but really it was all a legit response to his correspondence. The debate topic about fat people being sent to an island to lose weight to save on health insurance from high school may have been too much (which, to be fair, was health clinic argument angled to piss off my teacher that I didn't like - but didn't tell him that).Who knows. Note to self: Keep responses 3 paragraphs or less. But what can I say? I like to write and I like to talk about myself. So I'll probably just continue to do whatever I want and listen to crickets.  

Otherwise the experience has been a positive one - minus one trolling 44 year old with only his torso pictured who called me 35...like that was an insult. I'm getting much more actual, positive attention once they read my profile. (I say "actual" because I'm hoot, hollered and whistled at all the time real life, but "actual" dates...not so much.) It's some how liberating, validating and sort of overwhelming all at once. It's great to get messages from people who actually like what you have to say (and photos while camping with no makeup) versus just judging blonde hair and a big rack (in person) at stereotypical face value, and then trying to win you over  Has our courtship turned viral? Have we met the 1950s wooing all over but Internet plays matchmaker? Either way, it's a really good ego fluff. 

And then I wonder - since I was asked to drinks by one of the three - what to do in this situation since I'm not, in fact, seeking any type of relationship at the moment. Earlier in the year, I put myself on a sabbatical until at least October. I have allowed myself casual dating, but I think some of the men on the site are actually looking for something serious; real. I am both of those things - hopeless romantic extraordinaire - but not right now. So how do I handle that...

Answer: Zero

Question: Number of fucks given?

As I walked through the metal detectors, onto the property adjacent to the White House, a group of friends giggled as they heard my response to my friend. “Oh! In our meeting this morning the CEO decided we should start to make dildos because it fits so well with our company name.” This, of course, in response to my friend exclaiming “OH GOOD, THEY DIDN'T TAKE YOUR DILDO” after my purse, sans dildo, was returned, post-search, while entering the premises to watch the Obama's light the National Christmas Tree surrounded by caroling and children. I clearly remained unembarrassed and instead chose to continue the dildo discussion, in public earshot.

It was at this point that I realized – more than ever – that I have the filter of an 80 year old woman. And anything that comes out of my mouth in public is for the amusement of the general populace – or just that small ground standing outside of the metal detector tents. But mostly, just to amuse myself. I have a filter, I confessed to a guy who has appeared to have taken an interest in me, I just chose not to use it. I amuse myself first and foremost. "Best way to be. Couldn't agree more," he replied.

I used to say “I can’t wait to be old, so I can just say whatever I want”. Apparently, my mom was right; I’m impatient. Or perhaps, just wise beyond my years. Wise beyond my years, yes; that sounds so much better than “not giving a fuck”.