What I'm Dealing With

So, at this point in the match.com journey, I've read a lot of profiles. A lot. And the truth of the matter is, most of them aren't that original or interesting, and many of them just sort of blend together after a while. A couple of interesting side effects of this--one, when I do come across a particularly witty, clever, or original profile, I'll give it my attention even if the person's photo doesn't really grab me immediately. (The same holds true for profiles that are free of grammatical and spelling errors. Those tend to be few and far between.) The other interesting thing I've noticed is that sometimes, I come across one that is so boring and/or poorly written that I likewise can't help but read it--it's like trying to look away from a car wreck. Case in point--this one comes a guy whose photo (which I will not post, by the way, since he is identifiable in it) shows him staring broodily into the camera and just in general not looking like a happy camper. This delightful photo is accompanied by the following text:

"I am a nice single white male who is looking for a long term relationship. I am good looking and I feel that looks are important. Also, the personality is to. I am tired of the bars. I have never done this before. I will do anything at this point to find that someone special."

O.K., let's analyze this line by line, shall we?

"I am a nice single white male who is looking for a long term relationship."
All of this information could be intuited from your photo and the fact that you're on this site. Also, don't call yourself "nice." Nice should be a default trait . . . if you feel you have to mention it, it just comes across as really, really boring.

"I am good looking and I feel that looks are important."
Stating this in the first place portrays you as extremely vain. Stating this in the second sentence of your profile portrays you as extremely shallow. (By the way, it seems not to have occurred to him that his photo is right there. And he's not that good looking. So, he's a bit self-delusional as well.)

"Also, the personality is to."
Well, glad to see you do take personality into account, even if it runs a sloppy second to looks. Now you might want to work on the difference between "to" and "too."

"I am tired of the bars. I have never done this before."
These are standard match.com lines that are employed somewhere in probably around 70% of the profiles I've read. Not usually in such a choppy, staccato manner, though.

"I will do anything at this point to find that someone special."
Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter, which is, obviously--abject desperation, and absolutely no attempt to hide or disguise it. In fact, because of this sentence, the whole profile basically reeks of desperation. Not to mention redundancy. In his profile sidebar, this guy finds it necessary to add the following under For Fun: "I like to golf and watch football. ( ohio state ) I am looking for someone who likes to have fun. I am tired of the bar sceen. I am a good looking man who wants someone to share life with"

Sigh. You see what I mean. (It is worth noting at this point that a lot of people--a lot!--actually find it necessary to mention in their profiles that they like to have fun and/or they are looking for someone who likes to have fun. Um, O.K. . . . as opposed to what? Are there people out there who hate fun, who just can't stand it, who just can't deal with fun or anyone who likes having it? I'm obviously thinking about this stuff way too much--it's driving me nuts.)

One more thing before I lay off this poor schmuck. I think this is my favorite part of his whole profile. Here's what he's got down in the section where he is supposed to list Favorite Things: "Jap. food. Anything but seafood." Now, how's that for cryptic? First, what exactly does he mean by Jap. food? Is he a fan of Japanese food and likes to use a derogatory term to describe it? But then, a lot of Japanese cuisine does involve seafood, which he apparently doesn't like. And this type of food, whatever it is, comprises the sum total of all of his favorite things. Aarrrgghh.

I almost want to get in touch with this guy and clue him in to the many, many things that are so very wrong in his profile. In fact, a lot of people could use some help in that regard. Maybe I should start a side job as a profile coach?

I swore I wasn't going to do this, but . . .

I realize it's probably ill-advised to reproduce photos from Match.com--I'm sure that, if discovered, I could get sued or something. But really, who's going to find out? None of my 10 or so readers are going to report me, I'm fairly certain. And I swear I'm not going to make this a regular thing (as tempting as it may be to do so) . . . but I just have to share the two photos that accompany this one guy who winked at me today. (Also, you really can't tell who he is from these photos anyway. Just bear with me.)


O.K., so here's the first photo:



So, dude--thanks for sharing this pic you obviously took of yourself casually with your cell phone in the back seat of your buddy's car. Nice glasses. Makes it pretty tough to really know what you look like, but that's O.K. . . . I'm sure your next photo will be more revealing.

(And, oh boy, is it ever! Wait for it . . . wait for it. . . . )

The next and only other photo:








Yeah, I know--yum!! But at the same time--yuck!! Is this an online dating site, or a repository for porn applications? I like how he's completely objectified himself by cutting his own head off in the photo and just showing . . . um, the good stuff. I gotta say, in my three weeks of perusing various profiles, I've seen some shirtless shots here and there (many of which, by the way, should never have been posted), but this is the first one I've encountered in which the subject has deliberately decapitated himself. Does he really have no idea how this comes off? I suspect not. And when I don't respond to his wink, I'll be just another stuck-up bitch who doesn't know what she's missing. (Sorry, I don't actually know the guy, but I suspect I can extrapolate his thought process nonetheless.)

I must say, though, that if and when this guy ever gets a date as a result of these photos, I would love to be a fly on the wall during that encounter. Of course, I could always rent a porno that features some lame attempt at a storyline and probably get the same experience . . . .

And I'm not even a farmer . . .

O.K., here's a short diversion into a topic that couldn't possibly be more superficial . . .

I noticed today, out of the blue, that I've reached the point in the summer where I am two different colors, completely. My arms and shoulders are very tan, and my legs and thighs are white white white. In comparison to my arms, in fact, my legs look alabaster. This is due to the fact that I no longer wear shorts, except around the house. When I'm out, I wear capris, skirts (usually knee-length), or long pants, exclusively. The fact is, shorts aren't flattering for me--my legs are too short. At some point in life, you have to accept what works for you and what doesn't and go with what makes you feel comfortable. So, while I have absolutely no problem being in a bathing suit when appropriate, being in a hottub, etc., when I'm out and about, I wear what I'm comfortable in. Which means that by this time of the year, I generally look like two different colored mannequins that have been twisted together.

The thing is, there's not really much I can do about it. I'm not going to start wearing different clothes. I'm not going to grease myself up and lay out in the sun--I don't exactly need to expose myself blatantly to another type of cancer. I don't believe in artificial tanning, either through tanning beds or "special creams"--why subject yourself to stuff like that that might do weird, unpleasant things to your body? I'm not willing to get electrocuted or have my skin turn orange in a quest to be all one color. (I realize I'm a bit paranoid about the electrocuted thing, and that people don't generally get electrocuted in tanning beds. About the only true phobias I have are a fear of being electrocuted--which, I know where that comes from, but that's a whole other story--and a bit of claustrophobia. So, no tanning beds for me. Plus, I think it's a waste of money.)

So, I've decided the only thing to do is live with it. So, I'm two different colors--big deal. Why are we all supposed to be this nice, sleek, homogenous color, anyway? (And by "we," I mean women, of course. Farmers' tans on men generally go unnoticed.) I've just decided to embrace the idea that I look . . . interesting. And anyway, eventually the weather will get colder, I'll be outdoors less, the long-sleeved shirts will come out, and I'll go back to boring old all-over alabaster. And I'll wish it was the middle of an awesome summer, and the only price I had to pay was a two-toned look that probably no one but me even noticed. . . .

Deja Vu

So, a lot of you have been wondering how things went with good old Craig, my first match.com date. (As it turns out, he wasn't technically my first date, but more on that later.) To recap, this was the guy who looked a little bit different in each of his photos, and I was curious to see which one would show up. I think that's where we left it.

As it turned out, none of them did. The guy who met me out looked different from all the photos he'd posted, mostly in that he was shorter and older-looking than I'd thought he would be. And I have to say--it was strange to see him in person, and I kind of drew a blank at first on whether or not I found him attractive. I guess my mind was too busy reconciling what I was expecting with what was in front of me. For those of you who have never met someone with whom you first communicated online and on the phone, I gotta tell you--it's just weird, or at least, I find it to be a little weird. You know something about the person, you have a feel for who they are in a general sense, and you may have had some very specific conversations with this person . . . and then all of a sudden, there they are, and you need to piece together this physical person with the mental image you have of the personality you've come to know. It's a little disconcerting.

So, I wasn't sure what I thought of Craig physically at first, so I figured we'd hang out, talk a while, and then it would all become clear. As it turns out, this was a very good plan, because it did become clear, very quickly. It became clear that Craig is exactly like Guy #5 in
this post.

Again, I have to ask--what is it with me and gay guys who don't know/accept that they're gay? And what is it, especially, with guys in their 30s who are still like this? Then again, maybe it's not me--maybe a lot of women in the dating pool encounter this type of guy now and then, just by virtue of playing the numbers.

Lest you think I'm jumping to conclusions about Craig, let me say that I spent a big chunk of the date being regaled with stories about the time he spent in a traveling theater group. This group specialized in campy remakes of serious movies--for example, "Carrie," in which he played John Travolta's character. In one production, he had to make out with this other guy on stage every night, and it was hilarious! At one point, he found it necessary to reassure me, "I was the only straight guy in the group!" And you, dear reader, can just imagine me sitting there, with my head cocked slightly to one side, thinking, "Are you sure?"

But don't worry, all's well that ends well. We had a nice enough time and a good dinner, and all the time I spent pondering how I was going to graciously get out of a second date was for naught, because he didn't contact me again. I was a little surprised by that, actually, because he did make a good show of expressing interest in me, but ultimately I was relieved.

So, that was the first date, sort of--not a success, but not a horror story. Just another one of those things that make you wonder what people are thinking, and doing, and why so many people don't seem to really know what they want. But I guess that's why we're all out there looking, right?

Guess what I don't want to do?

Go into work today. On a Saturday. And not just any Saturday--this has got to be about the most gorgeous day we've had all summer, so far. It's sunny, clear, and the perfect temperature, with no humidity. A perfect day for blogging and reading on the porch and then taking Josie for a long walk through the woods and then maybe going out with a friend to eat dinner on a patio somewhere. But no. I must go into work and sit in my office, far from any window, and spend the day e-mailing instructions to vendors and answering their questions on the phone, because they're all working today too. We have a major deadline coming up, and my life is not my own right now.

At least I have the luxury of going in basically whenever I want, although I really should go soon. The vendors have been working since 5 this morning already, or at least that's what they tell me. Which means I'll have about 600 e-mails waiting for me when I get in. (O.K., that's a slight exaggeration. . . . ) Which means I'd better go. More later.

Come to Jesus

So, it's no big secret that I'm an atheist. Or an agnostic. I'm not really sure which I am, actually. I guess I've always had a slight aversion to the term "agnostic" because I hate sitting on the fence about anything--I tend to have pretty strong opinions one way or another about almost everything. (I know, this is shocking, shocking news.) At the same time, though, "atheist" is a bit extreme and not really representative of my true thoughts and feelings. An atheist knows there is no God, no higher power whatsoever. Do I know this for sure? No--I don't believe that anybody does. So, atheists in general have talked themselves into believing something is absolutely true that, in reality, they have no way of knowing for sure . . . kind of like true believers, yes? It comes down to a matter of faith either way--whether it's faith in a higher power or faith in your own belief that there is no higher power. So, I guess what I'm saying is that I have no faith. O.K., O.K., so I'm an agnostic. Just talked myself into that one.

My ex-husband, on the other hand, was an unapologetic atheist, no question about it. We shared a fear and loathing of evangelicals and a healthy skepticism of all organized religion in general, but he always had an added measure of disdain for anything faith-oriented that I didn't really share. In fact, there were a couple of times in my marriage where I considered checking out the local Unitarian church, mostly because of its involvement in community-oriented activism . . . I thought it might be a good way to get involved in getting out the vote in the last (disastrous) election, for example. I've always respected the Unitarians, and they don't promote belief in the traditional Christian god anyway. But whenever I thought about bringing up the idea with my ex, I scrapped it. I figured he would laugh it off, tell me to go ahead and go if I wanted, but he wasn't interested. (In fairness to him, I don't know for sure that that's what his reaction would have been. Toward the end of our marriage, we weren't exactly projecting optimism onto each other.)

All of this makes the story I heard earlier this week rather interesting. On Monday, my former boss (who is now my boss's boss, and who attended my wedding) stopped me in the hall at work to tell me he'd run into my ex at the grocery store on Sunday. And apparently my ex, who works a regular 9 to 5, was wearing a shirt and tie--on a Sunday. Which led my former boss to comment that he (my ex) looked like he'd just come from church, to which my ex replied, "Well, I did!"

Hmmm. Unfortunately, that was the extent of the conversation, so I have no more information to go on. Of course, there's the possibility that his church-going was a one-time thing, for a friend's kid's baptism or some such thing. But somehow, I doubt it. There have been other clues. Although he and I haven't been in touch for months, I've heard a few things here and there. I know, for example, that he quit drinking. I also know that he's been seeing someone for a while and that it's pretty serious, and also that he and his new girlfriend don't really hang out with his old group of friends much. (I heard this from a friend of his I ran into at a music festival a few weeks ago, who said the ex has pretty much dropped off the social radar.)

So, I'm left to wonder . . . did my ex, the die-hard atheist, actually get religion? And if so, did I drive him to it?

Geesh.

Update

O.K., so it's been a while . . . it's been a hectic week. For the record, I do have more going on in my life than this match.com stuff, but I just don't have time to write about everything, and some of it, I really can't write about anyway, for a variety of reasons. So, right now, I'm going to concentrate on this online dating journey, because frankly, there's enough going on there to fill a book already . . . and it's only been a week! As I think I mentioned before, I could make a second career out of this if I was so inclined. I'm still trying to feel my way through the process, and to be honest, it's a little overwhelming.

Let's start with some stats, as of right now:

Number of times my profile has been viewed: 492
Number of winks I've received: 64
Number of e-mails I've received: 49
Number of e-mails I've received that I haven't read yet: 17
Number of people I initated contact with myself: 8
Number of people I initated contact with who have responded: 5 (The other 3 haven't been logged on to the site for weeks.)
Number of people with whom I've been actively exchanging e-mails: about 7
Number of people with whom I've talked to on the phone: 3
Number of dates so far: 2 (More on these later.)

So, in this process, as in so many processes in life, patterns are starting to emerge, and frankly, it's kind of disheartening. I can basically break down the people who contact me into three categories, and they're pretty evenly distributed. They are as follows:

1. Total duds. These are guys whose profiles present them as both unattractive and uninteresting. I get the feeling that a lot of them are playing the numbers game--basically, getting in touch with every woman on Match and seeing what shakes out. I am not going to shake out. Sorry.

2. Good-looking guys who have nothing interesting whatsoever going on in their profiles. As an example, here's the profile text of the best-looking guy who contacted me:

I have alot of different activities I enjoy doing, anything outdoors, dinner, movies, theater. I'm looking for someone special to do them with. I'd like to meet someone who's easy going likes to have fun and enjoy life. Must also have a big heart

Um, that's great. So, you enjoy "dinner"? Do you enjoy candlelight and walks on the beach, too? How about breathing--do you enjoy that? I don't mean to sound bitter (already!), but seriously, try a little originality and individuality! It's funny, too--there's a sidebar where you can list, separately, what you like to do, and yet another spot to list your favorite things. This guy's responses? "Anything outdoors, dinner, movies, theater." Yeah, he listed these same things twice in the sidebar, for a total of three times overall. O.K., dude, I get it. Frankly, I don't care how good-looking the guy is--I'm not going to respond to a profile like that. I'd fall asleep before hitting the Reply button.

3. Guys with interesting/quirky/original/intriguing profiles . . . who are, unfortunately, completely unattractive. I guess here's where I come across as shallow and/or vain, but I'm sorry . . . I'm not going to contact a guy who looks like a 55-year-old Drew Carey with possible liver disease. It's really frustrating, actually--I'll read someone's e-mail, and it totally cracks me up, it's witty and original, it's grammatically correct (a major turn-on to me!), it's flattering in a light-hearted way . . . and then I click on the profile and see the guy's photo, and--no. Just no. It can be such a disappointment, but if there's no attraction whatsoever, then what's the point?

So, that's where we stand. It's not like there are no viable prospects whatsoever, but there's nothing terribly exciting going on either. I am having a very interesting e-mail exchange with this one guy . . . who happens to live in Alaska at the moment. He's a geologist and park ranger who's based in Columbus but gets stationed at different places for a couple of months at a time. He's even done stints in Antarctica, and he's been to every continent and sailed every ocean, and we're doing a lot of exchanging of traveling stories right now. I'm looking forward to meeting him when he comes home in September, so there's that.

Recaps on the actual dates to come . . . .

The New Time Suck

O.K., so some might say I have a slight propensity to addiction. (See: online poker. Which I hardly ever play anymore, by the way, so there is hope.) I never thought, however, that I'd become addicted to an online dating site.

If eHarmony is a stupendously boring church sermon that makes you wish someone would shoot you in the head and get it over with, Match.com is a wild, crazy party that goes on all night. When we left off yesterday morning, I had just posted my profile and had a few winks and e-mails. (By the way, a wink is when someone just sends you a little message that they've viewed your profile and are interested, but they don't actually write anything--they're waiting for you to initiate contact.) Then I left for the day to go visit my sister in Sandusky, and by the time I checked back in around 9:00 last night, I had about 12 winks and 10 e-mails. Today, those numbers are about doubled. Of course, I can't possibly respond to all of them--this could quickly turn into a second career if I did that. But I do find myself surfing around almost compulsively, exchanging e-mails with some people, and I have to say--it's a hoot. Unless a lot of people are blatantly lying, there are quite a few genuinely interesting guys on there. We talk a lot about music and books and music and such, good places to go out in Columbus, cool restaurants and shows, etc. Some of them, of course, I have no interest in actually dating--and I've been clear about that, and everyone so far has been perfectly fine and cordial about it. They'll just say, "It's been nice chatting with you--good luck!" or something like that. I haven't really gotten a weird or creepy vibe from anyone yet. I'm sure there are some less-than-desirable people on there somewhere, but I plan on being very selective about who I actually meet, so overall, I've got a good feeling about it--and it's just a lot of fun.

I am staying realistic about the whole thing, though. A lot of these people have been on the site for a while, and I understand that it's a common phenomenon that when a new person signs up who seems even slightly interesting and/or attractive, everyone kind of pounces. Hell, I've only been on the site for a few days, and I would do the same thing if a new attractive, interesting person's profile appeared. So, this attention might not last forever--and that's fine. I'm just concentrating now on cultivating e-mail relationships with the real prospects . . . and actually learning a few new things about Columbus in the process.

So, my first date is Thursday night. His name is Craig, he's 31, and he works for a wine importer. Should be interesting. He's got four photos posted on his profile, and in each one, he looks a little different--I'm curious about which one he'll look like in person (if any--you never know!) I will give a full report after, of course. No expectations except to satisfy my curiosity and hopefully have some good conversation. We shall see.

eHarmony Sucks; Match.com Rocks

O.K., O.K., mea culpa already--please stop chastising me for signing up for eHarmony. I know it was a big, stupid mistake. I've done some research, and for the one or two people besides me who didn't know this stuff already, here's what I found out:

• The site was founded by an evangelical for the express purpose of matching up men and women only, and preferably ones who want to get married and start having kids as soon as possible. It's not marketed that way directly because the site can make a lot more money off a wider client base, obviously. (Funny how evangelicals have no problem with blatant deception if it makes the bucks roll in. That's just . . . so Christian and godly, it kind of brings a tear, huh?)
• The site has several lawsuits pending against it by gay rights groups over its discriminatory practices. I would never, ever knowingly give money to any company that discriminates against gays--you guys know that. I guess I was thinking that eHarmony just wasn't hip enough yet to offer services to gays--I didn't realize it was actively discriminatory.
  
• Some people--even straight folks!--who try to sign up are actually rejected, right off the bat. When I learned this, I was kind of surprised that I wasn't rejected--I would seem to be a perfect candidate for rejection based on their general criteria. Upon further research, though, I've found that they seem to reject people who have any history of depression or admit to taking antidepressants, which I do not. (This exclusionary benchmark apparently does not take into account self-medication in the form of vodka tonics.)
  
• A lot of the people who do manage to pass the straight test and the depression test nevertheless wind up, like me, being totally dissatisfied. They go weeks with no matches, and/or the matches they do get are wildly inappropriate (like Christopher from Pickerington! He's still my only "match"! I'm really starting to hate that guy. . . . ). I think my favorite story was the one about this 32-year-old guy who is an engineer, likes to party, and wants kids someday . . . and after weeks of waiting, he got one match--a 62-year-old pediatric nurse who lives two hours away from him. You just gotta laugh.
• The site apparently has this tactic of holding back matches until a day or two before your membership is set to expire, and then it throws them at you all at once, hoping to lure you into renewing your subscription. So, right now I'm waiting, curious to see if this will happen to me. I'm going to cancel my membership either way, of course, but it will be interesting to see if they're really that devious.

Anyway, who needs eHarmony when we have Match.com? That site is awesome. I finally figured out all the technical issues and got my profile posted--I finished the written part yesterday, downloaded a photo, and sent the whole thing in for approval. (Naturally, they have to approve it first, to weed out obvious nutjobs and make sure no one's posting anything pornographic--which is a good thing.) I guess my profile got approved and then went live sometime in the middle of the night, and by the time I got up this morning, I already had four winks and three e-mails. Nothing terribly promising yet, but all of it a vast improvement over Christopher! (This is going to be my new buzzword, by the way, for guys who are completely inappropriate for me--as in, "That guy is such a Christopher." Unless I meet a guy named Christopher who I actually like . . . but we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.)