Is That Supposed to be a Compliment?

One of the few connections I made online dating that had any sort of promise at all was met almost immediately with the challenge of distance. Cosmic circumstances brought him out of my state and into another with no definite return date. It was unfortunate because he had the makings of great potential.

We continued to chat for nine months or so, but never really broached the topic of where it would lead, because it couldn’t lead anywhere hundreds of miles away. I guess this isn’t entirely true. For some people the distance would have been a minor bump in the road. But I have endured so many medium-length distance relationships in my past life that I didn’t have much of a desire to delve into a long distance one.  Especially one that would likely end in tears or relocating to the southern U.S., which would entail an entirely different brand of weeping.

As it was, we never ventured beyond flirtatious daily gchats, a handful of emails, some texting and a lone phone call. Throw in a rather thoughtful birthday gift and it became an “if only” situation. The “if only” turned into “oh forget it” when we had this conversation. He apologized a couple days after that disaster, but the regularity of our discourse dropped to almost never and a couple weeks later I met the current boy, so I didn’t give much more thought to the matter. Just another missed connection.

Circumstances being what they were, you can imagine my surprise when I received a text from him a month later.  

Dude, this is probably totally inappropriate, but I found the “Oklahoma you” and I’m totally gaga!

My thought process broke down thusly:

1. Where did you come from?
2. What about that is inappropriate? Weird and unnecessary, yes, but I don’t know about inappropriate.
3. The real inappropriateness lies in your needless use of quotation marks.
4.  I don’t really want to think that there is another me out there somewhere, especially a version with a southern accent.
5. Is that supposed to be a compliment?
6. Who says gaga?

I said congrats, made some quip about my love life and passed along this blog address after he requested it (hopefully he’s forgotten that at this point, because I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled to read this). He then compared the situation to some Seinfeld episode that explains how men are more attractive to other women if they’re with a pretty girl. This made little sense to me. I have never seen the episode because I kind of hate Seinfeld, but I imagine you’d have to be seen in the vicinity of the pretty girl for it to count. We were never even in the same room let alone in a relationship. Whatever, he called me pretty, so I guess there’s that. But, honestly, the whole interaction came off as some sort of  “I found a girlfriend” victory dance.

I just didn’t see the need for that conversation to take place. If I had sent him some alluring text begging him to take me in the worst way, then fine, by all means ward me off by telling me about your ah-may-zing girlfriend. But this was more akin to screaming “DON’T TOUCH ME I’M TAKEN” as some pretty girl extends her hand for a simple handshake. I’m probably reading too much into it as per my M.O. I’m sure it was nothing more than a friendly notification, however unnecessary it may be. But guys, seriously, don’t send weird texts with thinly veiled backhanded compliments about how you found someone to fill the gaping hole in your existence to some girl you stopped corresponding with a month prior. She doesn’t really need to know how happy you are with someone slightly better than her.

Image via LOLbrary

Online Dating Saga Part 5: Annnnd I’m Done (For Now)

So my final day of eHarmony subscription was up this week. It marked the end of my online dating adventure. I had let my other profiles fall into the dusty, abandoned no man’s land where my Xanga and MySpace profiles have long resided. Still there, but likely to never be touched again (mostly because I’ve forgotten the passwords and don’t care to make the effort to shut them down.)

I had already decided I was done with online dating for a while, but the final few weeks of eHarmony sealed it. The matches went from being delivered once a day in 10-suitor bundles to once every couple weeks in the form of a few stragglers unearthed when they likely got curious about what happened to that forgotten eHarmoprofile they had let lapse months before. Matches quickly went from solid, local guys to outstate randoms miles outside my set radius.

I understand that not every eligible bachelor is on these sites (there is money to be made in tying each site together into one mega site, a one-stop dating shop if you will) and so sometimes they are going to have to scour the outer limits of your geographic specifications. Still, if they are going to do this I’d rather they set me up with some delightful, cheeky Dubliner than a shy dairy farmer from southern Minnesota whose favorite cities include “my town” and “I don’t know.”

Brief disclaimer: I have nothing against the dear farmers. I grew up on acres of corn, but those guys tend to be rooted in the country given the fact that’s where their livelihood is. And I don’t have much of a desire to leave the metro to commit to a life of 5 a.m. milkings and day trips to the city at 2 hours of travel time each way. In other words, it wouldn’t be my ideal match.

While I started off strong going on a new date every couple weeks, I quickly burnt out on first-date adventures and became more selective about who I actually chose to meet. Which, combined with the more limited number of matches, meant pretty much no dates at all. I should have been more discerning from the beginning, because it led to the mentality that I would rather have been spending the time with people I knew and cared about more than some stranger with a very slim chance of becoming The One.  

The string of first dates is probably mostly my fault. Even if I had a slight bit of interest in the guy, I wouldn’t contact him. He would have to call me if he wanted a second date. That’s probably snobby isn’t it? But it wasn’t an ego thing so much as it was a traditional (read: archaic) girl thing. There was one guy I actually dug enough to contact after the initial date, but alas, alack, that didn’t pan out either.

The biggest thing was that the whole dating thing became work. I felt like I was taking some strange shotgun approach to romantical goals. Just a frenzied effort to find my Mr. Wonderful before I was outbid and all the good ones were snatched up off of some eBay-like dating store.

Which, again, can probably be attributed to be my flawed approach to the whole process. Had I began the endeavor with a less fervent method, I may have not have become so exhausted and disenfranchised with the lack results. So my six-month experiment yielded nothing more than a few wasted evenings, a couple of fun ones that didn’t go beyond some good conversation and a decent meal, and a hours spent improving my typing and short-answer response skills.

I did, however, learn to take rejection in stride. The aforementioned shotgun efforts lend themselves well to letting a snub simply roll off my weathered heart (aww cheese). It’s like sending out a pitch to a 100 publications at once or applying to job after job. After awhile you get used to not getting a response. Hell, half the time you don’t even realize you’ve been shot down. If nothing else, I’m hoping this devil-may-care attitude toward rejection carries over to real-life situations. But given the fact I did nothing about the cute, charming guy sitting next to me in the coffee shop just now, that doesn’t seem likely either. And so it goes.

The Online Saga Part 4: The Land of 1001 First Dates

I’ve quickly come to realize the world of online dating is simply one in which first dates are handed out like urine mints in a classy restaurant. Just as in a bar setting, most individuals are willing to take an hour or two to get to know a stranger they consider at least somewhat attractive. Initially upon embarking on this online endeavor I considered that one (if not the only) benefit of online dating would be the ability to pre-screen my prospects and filter out the definite “no’s” before wasting time with the face-to-face step. And while this is valid on some level, I’m beginning to think the main difference between online dating and the bar scene seems to be more in volume rather than quality of match (also the sky is blue).

Essentially if you believe finding that elusive Mr. I’ve-Been-Waiting-For-You-All-My-Life is nothing more than a game of odds, you’ll never get more rolls of the dice than you do with eHarmOKMatch.com. I’ll admit, in the past, I’ve been skeptical of friends who had great difficulty moving beyond the first date in the online dating realm. I thought if you’ve already had many of those deal breakers and that initial conversation sorted out before the actual meeting, you’ve overcome half the battle.

I fear I may have been wrong (Le Gasp!). It turns out that people are not nearly as charming in real life as they are via the written word (Le Gasp Part Deux!). (This includes myself as well, given the fact that the one individual I still considered fairly promising after the first date never called, but that’s another story for another time.)

The first guy I met up with had induced a smile or two through our screening correspondence so I saw some potential promise in him. In person he had all the personality of his sister’s Labrador Retriever —the one who starred in 95 percent of his anecdotes for the evening. I’m pretty sure another gentleman I met was looking for a psychiatrist to explain why his family doesn’t want to spend any time with him. The conclusion I drew was that they got sick of him talking about nothing other than how awesome it was to ride bike all day every day. Especially since he did so in the voice of Foghorn Leghorn. I must also note that I use the term “gentleman” very loosely as we split the bill right down the middle despite the fact that he ordered two drinks and one espresso more than I had.

The first date I had this past weekend may turn into a second. I’m not entirely sure that I’m feeling it, but I am considering it if just to break the cycle. Also, he didn’t talk like a cartoon chicken and only had one story about a dog he didn’t own, so that’s promising.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised at my findings. Meeting someone based on a profile they’ve (in some cases) carefully put together for the sole purpose of attracting a match is obviously not going yield the most genuine results. Not to mention there is no way to convey that funny, butterfly chemistry that inexplicably happens when two people just click. Because I still believe in that dammit! Fun fact, I also believe in unicorns and the moon landing. 

The Online Saga Part Three: A Mainstream Approach

via www.glasbergen.com

Well, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I’ve begun sampling all that the online dating world has to offer (not much). The Christian sites yielded disappointing results, so onto the online dating darlings of the masses. OK, nobody really knows what Zoosk is, but eHarmony? Everybody’s doing it. Right??

Zoosk

I hit this site pretty hard when I first started and then became kind of indifferent about seeking people out. Now, like a true snob, I wait for people to contact me and then review their profile to determine if I shall grace them with a response (honestly, it’s just because I’m lazy). It’s pretty standard; answer a few questions about yourself, post a few pictures and then begin your search. There weren’t a ton of eligible bachelors in the greater Minneapolis area, but perhaps I should give it another perusal before I close out my account completely. Though I’m a bit hesitant to traipse down that path again. The last time I did I found myself staring The 'Baby' Guy in the face (the profile actually belonged to his friend, still weird though).

Their “scientific matching system” is pretty limited and essentially gives no consideration to preferences you’ve set. Also, there is an enormous hidden fee for signing up. We’re already losers in need of dating CPR, and yet you kick our wallets when we’re down? Not awesome Zoosk, not awesome at all. Refusal to fork over the exorbitant fee doesn’t prevent individuals from sending an opening message. This means that most people hand out their phone number like a 21-year-old experiencing her first night of barhopping and the many eager men such an experience presents. I declined to contact these individuals because I’m not looking to pick up a stalker, especially one with “mental health issues that [he] has under control” or one looking for a “f*$% buddy.” Whelp, I appreciate the honesty, but I think I’ll pass.

I’ve gotten a lot of “wink, wink” messages, which, as I said before, I refuse to respond to on principle. There have been a few possibilities, but they’ve fizzled out before getting the point of meeting. There is one I’ve been corresponding with on a regular basis and would meet if circumstances didn’t prevent it. He seems humorous and has a certain level of wit in written correspondence, but who knows if it will hold up in person. (I really am a pretentious twit aren’t I?) And lord knows he likely won’t find me nearly as charming in a face-to-face interaction. I won’t go into great detail about this individual lest he happen upon this blog and have a reaction similar to that of Rachael Leigh Cook when she found out that Freddie Prinze Jr. was using her. (If you recall, she was so appalled she cashed in on a swear you’re only allowed to use once in a PG-13 movie and never in a trailer.)

eHarmony

So eHarmony is kind of spectacular in that it is perfect for the ambivalent online dater as it delivers your prince charming right to your inbox. The omniscient website knows your type based on an extensive survey (apparently I’m in need of an attorney/engineer who loves Malcolm Gladwell and sarcasm—OK, I’ll give you that one eHarmoguru). Unfortunately, perhaps because of the match pre-sets, all of the profiles start to look the same after awhile. This makes it difficult to pick out the gem among Bedazzler ammo.

The guided communication is potentially good in theory, but most of it is lacking in depth. With the exception of the last level of pre-message communication, the “Must Have; Can’t Stands.” This is where the deal breakers come out. I corresponded with a few gents, but most disappeared after I sent them my list of “Must Haves; Can’t Stands,” which further suggests my standards are out of control. I chose them from a list that eHarmony gave me, so it’s not like they are unheard of; that should give me some kind of reprieve no? And, in defense of my standards, I dropped out of the running after I received a couple of requisite lists I simply could not live up to.

So far, eHarmony seems to be the best fit for my online dating needs. Mainly because it requires little effort for the first few rounds of communication. Perhaps when my trial is up, I will venture over to Match.com or OK Cupid. Or I will be married to Mr. Everything I Have Ever Wanted But Didn’t Know I Could Find Lurking Online. 

The actual result of these endeavors remains to be seen. Thus far I’ve only gone on one actual date and it was a bit disappointing, but that, Kidlets, is a different discussion for a different post. For now, I shall sally forth in the land of virtual dating and see what comes of it.

The Online Saga Part Two: The Christian Angle

So a few weeks ago I decided to plunge into the world of online dating. I signed up for a slew of sites in hopes of finding one that would squelch my internal judgy feelings toward online dating. After a very scientific decision process (by scientific I mean completely at random with special consideration given to sites that seemed the least skeevy), I chose to evaluate Christian Dating for Free, Love and Seek, Zoosk, and eHarmony.

Essentially the first two are Christian sites the latter two are only limited to individuals desperate enough to try online dating. I thought the Christian-based sites would be a place where I could, you know, find a nice, normal Christian guy. Turns out I may have been wrong. At least with regard to the normal requirement (silly me, always setting my standards too high).

Christian Dating for Free

I chose this one to get my feet wet. After all, it’s free and it’s for Christians, so what could possibly go wrong? Well, nothing really went wrong, but nothing really came of it either. There were not a lot of options because I’m guessing the membership count is minimal compared to some of the larger, less specific sites. Additionally, I got the impression that a lot of members had been M.I.A. for some time. Most of the profiles that actually piqued my interest had been inactive for months.

One of my biggest issues with this site as well as the other Christian sites was that each person felt the need use their entire profile to express their love of Christianity. I know, I know, what did I expect? I am proud of my faith, but as much as it defines who I am, it isn’t the only thing I am. I mean, you are on a Christian dating site, I get it, you loves you some Jesus. But there has to be something else interesting about you. Do you read? Enjoy travel? Whittle small cat figurines out of fallen oak trees? I mean if all we were was our faith all Christians would be identical and it wouldn’t matter how we paired off. So, Christian lads, all I’m asking is give me something more to work from here.

Love and Seek

For all the nothing that happened with the Christian Dating for Free site, a whole lot of wrong happened on Love and Seek. The saccharine name alone was almost enough to send me running the other direction, but it seemed reputable enough. It was actually recommended in an article about online dating because the membership base was broad and diverse. In reality, the members in my area were limited and the only people who actually contacted me were men old enough to be my father (and yes some literally old enough to be my grandfather). You’d be surprised at the incredibly dirty feeling that accompanies a * kiss kiss * message from a gray-haired old man when you’re 26 years old.

The few people who weren’t in the geriatric stage of their life appeared to be foreign princes who would eventually implore me to deposit money in an offshore account so they could free themselves from the evil reign of their father and then inherit millions.

Still, no one could be outdone by the individual who sent me a rather creepy note in which he actually ordered me to respond regardless of whether or not I was interested. In his profile he demanded that his lucky future bride be a virgin who would submit to him and never, ever cheat on him or he would divorce her. Scary stuff. Needless to say, I closed out of this account before my one-month trial was up.

Maybe other Christian sites would be a better fit, but it seems I’ve actually had a bit more luck with the broader sites. That’s a discussion for another time though…(How’s that for a cliff hanger?)

The Online Saga Part One: Here Goes Nothing

Yep, I made the leap. So far it’s been about what I expected, a couple possibilities and infinitely more walking disasters. So, it’s basically the bar scene, with computers and less make up.

In order to get the full experience from every angle, I joined a handful of sites to see which one yields the best results. After the first month, I will (hopefully) narrow it down to one (site, not guy). I haven’t signed up for Match, because it would get damn expensive to test drive every paid site. I also stayed away from Plenty of Fish (a few friends warned me against it) and OK Cupid (in the interest of full disclosure, I only avoided this one because Julian Assange was on it, and, as neurotic as it may be, that fact left a bad taste in my mouth).

My grievances thus far are mostly about particular user (as I see them) blunders that many men (and maybe women, I haven’t explored profiles of the gentler sex) repeat.

First of all, unnatural shirtless photos scream “douche!” not “I’m attractive!” It’s even more baffling when these individuals don’t possess a body to brag about, and there they are, self photographed in their bathroom mirror, proud as can be. Even if you are a modern-day Adonis, there is no reason for you to post a contrived shirtless picture on your dating profile. (I lied, If you look like this, you get a reprieve.)

Also, the profiles are so one note; it’s disheartening. I’ve lamented this nature of men before and Libby pointed out that they perhaps aren’t capable of embodying facets. Sorry guys, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt (feel free to ream me out in the comments section). However, the many, many profiles I’ve read that mention sports as their greatest passion, the one thing they couldn’t live without, the way they spend their leisure time and the best first date suggest you really have only one thing on your mind (well, two, but you know better than to talk about the other on a dating profile). Sometimes athletics even make a cameo appearance in the “more about me” section. I get it, you’re a dude, you loves the sports. I’m not opposed to them; I just want to know if there is anything else in your life you enjoy.

* Sigh * Then there is the poor grammar. I know I’m a bit (ok a lot a bit) of a grammar Nazi, but I don’t expect everyone in the world to have perfect grammar. I screw up a lot too (I’m sure you can find a few errors in this post), so I try to be forgiving about a rogue comma here or a misplaced quotation mark there. Still, is it all that difficult to give your profile a quick once over to catch the blatant misspellings? And, for the love of William Safire, save the “LOL” and emoticons for texting and (if you must) e-mailing.

Ok this is the last complaint of this particular diatribe, I promise. What is with the “winking” feature? It gives me absolutely nothing to respond to. It may (on an off night) work to draw me over while in a crowded bar. But online it tells me you were too lazy to come up with anything of substance. The same goes for the “you’re hot,” “hi” and “what’s up?” messages. If you want me to correspond with you, give me something to go off from.

I’m probably being way too snotty and particular about a dating avenue that was originally reserved for those viewed as desperate, but there have been a few individuals who have avoided these irritating landmines, and I’ve had some potentially promising interaction with them. For this reason, I feel like it is possible to have a nice, fully clothed profile picture, mention three or four different interests, use spell check and send an opener like “I noticed you love Barry Manilow, did you see him when he came to town? It was a great show.” Alas, alack my snobbish expectations may be too high, even (or especially) on the Internets.

Ok, Online Dating, I Give

It was inevitable. I had to tackle this dating phenomenon eventually. I still feel dirty even considering plentyoeharmomatchcupid.com as a viable option. But apparently I stand alone in this miry opinion. So, as it is my duty to my many (read: three) faithful readers to explore all aspects of the modern dating world (within moral reason), I feel must cowboy up and explore the icky world of online dating.

I’ve been encouraged, cajoled, pushed and pressured into coming out to the cyber dating society. (Perhaps I shouldn’t refer to it as cyber. It seems archaic and further paints a picture of pasty, ineligible bachelors seeking some vile e-lovin’.) My protests are many. And, I feel, valid.

As a single person I am supposed to be, and most days am, thrilled about my unattached status. My mentality should be: “if I meet someone, great, if not, whatever.” Participating in online dating seems to scream, “being single is NOT ok. I must remedy this malady by any means possible!” I’m not there…yet. This argument seems solid, no?

I am aware of a number of people who are not desperately seeking a mate, but still skip through the land of blurry photos (it’s 2011 people suitable mega pixels are not that hard to come by) and contrived profiles (see there is still a stigma). According to them, most people join out of positive curiosity and a “why not?” mentality rather than a last-ditch effort to keep their mug off of a children’s card game (so cruel).

Then there is the fact that being online seems to be an open invitation to the leering eyes of sleazy old men and the aforementioned basement dwellers. Shallow though it may be, it’s a terrible blow to the self-esteem to know that some 53-year-old, goateed creeper thinks he has a legitimate shot with you.

Above all, the latent romantic in me is disheartened at the thought of eliminating the meet cute moment between my smoochiekins and me. The world will be forever deprived of that cutesy story about how Mr. McDreamypants was sitting next to you at Quintessential Idyllic Coffee Shop when you both pulled out a copy of “Love in the Time of Cholera.” You had a knowing giggle and he bought you a non-fat caramel mocha latte with a dusting of cinnamon. Instead you will have to simply respond “online” when someone inevitably asks you to share the tale of meeting Mr. Perfectheimer. That story sucks.

For all its not-so-awesome points, online dating does have one very tempting advantage aside from the fact that it’s not a bar. It provides a superb method of eliminating the “Oh Hellz No” potentials with a simple click (though that particular type seems to come out in droves on the Interweb). Depending on the site there are a number of ways to get the basic deal breakers out of the way. Wants kids - check, doesn’t smoke - check, not an alcoholic – check, has a big-boy job – check, doesn’t worship Satan – check. That way you don’t get all twitterpated about some guy before you find out he sacrifices babies to the dark prince.

In reality, I will never know the good, bad and the very, very ugly truth about online dating unless I give it a shot. So in the coming weeks I will conduct a not-so-scientific experiment, exploring the endless dating websites. Stay tuned for the riveting reviews to come.