I came to a shocking realization whilst not moving from my couch all day long.
(Lies. I actually moved several times - Once to go back to bed for 2 hours, and a few more times to get either ginger ale or water or potato chips because those were the only food groups that I could keep down today.)
Anyway, back to my realization. I flirt like a 4th grade boy.
You know what I mean? When little boys chase little girls (or other little boys...ain't no shame in that game) all over the playground, throwing dirt at them and calling them names and putting gum on their chairs and whatnot? That's me. Except I'm a 23 year-old girl. So instead of gum and dirt I throw dirty looks and caustic sarcasm. Nice.
There's a reason I thought internet dating was the way to go - I could put all of my dickishness out there, right up front. Guys knew exactly what they were getting when they read my profile. I didn't have a chance to be all coy and smiley and flirty before killing my chances dead with bitchy snarkiness and the liberal use of the word 'douchebag.'
I swear to god I'm a nice person...as long as I don't find you remotely attractive.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Day I'm No Longer Counting
I don't think anyone still reads this, so I'm not all that concerned with that I say here. That said, this post will have nothing to do whatsoever with internet dating, because I haven't been winked at (or winked at anyone, the record should reflect) in like a month. I just wanted to put up a post about something that has really been on my mind lately:
Red Lobster.
So I dragged my besty Kristyn to the Lobster a few nights ago. I had never been there and was really craving some coconut shrimp - what can I say? I love my coconut shrimp. So first of all, we're greeted by the CREEPIEST woman I've ever met. She strides right up to Kris and goes "I knew you were going to show up!" and tries to shake Kris's hand. Kris looks at me as though she's not sure other people are seeing the same thing she is and shakes the woman hand. Let me digress - this crazy Red Lobster lady was extremely tiny and almost COMPLETELY bald - her hair was so thin I could see her entire skull. You know what ruins my appetite for coconut shrimp? Female baldness.
So anyway, we finally get a seat from someone with a full head of hair in what we were told was the non-smoking section. Except we were basically sitting in the bar where EVERYONE WAS SMOKING. Awesome.
Our waitress comes and cards us (standard) and takes our orders. Beer for me, pina colada for the lady and fried shrimp all around. We were SIKED.
Until the shrimp came. The shrimp itself was actually fine, but sweet jesus the dipping sauce smelled like frosting and ass. We both had about 4 shrimp and 7 french fries and gave up.
Then the bill comes. $40 for craptastic shrimp with ass-flavored frosting sauce. Are you joking?
Red Lobster: Friends off.
Red Lobster.
So I dragged my besty Kristyn to the Lobster a few nights ago. I had never been there and was really craving some coconut shrimp - what can I say? I love my coconut shrimp. So first of all, we're greeted by the CREEPIEST woman I've ever met. She strides right up to Kris and goes "I knew you were going to show up!" and tries to shake Kris's hand. Kris looks at me as though she's not sure other people are seeing the same thing she is and shakes the woman hand. Let me digress - this crazy Red Lobster lady was extremely tiny and almost COMPLETELY bald - her hair was so thin I could see her entire skull. You know what ruins my appetite for coconut shrimp? Female baldness.
So anyway, we finally get a seat from someone with a full head of hair in what we were told was the non-smoking section. Except we were basically sitting in the bar where EVERYONE WAS SMOKING. Awesome.
Our waitress comes and cards us (standard) and takes our orders. Beer for me, pina colada for the lady and fried shrimp all around. We were SIKED.
Until the shrimp came. The shrimp itself was actually fine, but sweet jesus the dipping sauce smelled like frosting and ass. We both had about 4 shrimp and 7 french fries and gave up.
Then the bill comes. $40 for craptastic shrimp with ass-flavored frosting sauce. Are you joking?
Red Lobster: Friends off.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Day 55
Oh geez.
Again, my apologies for the lengthy delay in posting. I promise I'll start posting more when SOMEONE NORMAL WINKS AT ME.
I'm not going to lie to you, I thought we had a winner there for a minute on Sunday. A chubby, somewhat balding guy actually wrote me an interesting, somewhat funny email that was 100% emoticon-free. SCORE! (But seriously. I LOVE chubby, balding funny guys.)
I was SO excited I wrote back almost immediately, which hasn't happened since that nightmare with the guy who wanted to date his cleaning lady or whatever. He (Brandon, not the bizarro cleaning lady guy) had mentioned in his first email that he owned a Wii and so therefore could teach me how to play video games, and in my response I mentioned that I was excited about that.
Then, in his response to MY response (try to keep up) he drops the bomb: he was one of the guys who camped out overnight to purchase said Wii.
Umm. Yeah. About that.
I was kind of hoping that by saying I was interested in learning how to play video games in my profile I would find myself a nice guy with a PS2 who would teach me the basics of Madden 06 or something. I was NOT hoping for one of those weirdos who love "gaming" so much that they (a) consider it a legitimate sport and (b) sleep outside a Best Buy IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WINTER to spend hundreds of dollars on a "system." The whole thing smells of creepiness and dirty laundry (you know, because his mom hasn't done it yet. Because he still lives at home. Ick.)
But you know what guys? You would be proud of me. I didn't write him off right then and there. No, I pushed passed that giant warning sign and pretended that I was okay with the fact that he has probably at one point in his life tried to earn money as a "professional" gamer.
So we'll skip to the next paragraph of his response, in which he asked me if I had heard of/was a fan of Eddie Izzard, the British cross-dressing stand-up comedian.
Why yes, yes I had heard of Eddia Izzard I told him in my response. And though I liked him, I thought Mitch Hedberg was awesome and (though I fully admitted that he was kind of played out) I told him that I thought Dane Cook was hilarious.
Fast forward to this afternoon. I'm greeted with an email from The Gamer which went on at length about video games (JESUS BRANDON. I'm a girl you're trying to date, not your 13 year old brother!) I come to this lovely paragraph:
"What I don't understand is how you can like Dane Cook. He's one of the least funny people I've ever heard. I'm not going to lie, you lose a few points in my eyes for thinking he's hilarious."
Ok. First of all, since when did we start with this whole points system thing? Puka Shells seems to think that we, too are on a points system: "score a huge point for lking beer... you could have gotten two huge points if you were more into sports, but you really only have to be around me a short time and you'll get ur point... "
Puka shells, let's use the spell check, shall we? And to the both of you...ENOUGH WITH THE POINTS. We're not competing here, and if we were, you would both lose BIG TIME for either (a) flagrant abuse of shell necklaces or (b) still being obsessed with video games when you are 26 YEARS OLD. It's just such a ridiculous way to make conversation/to let me know how you feel about my likes and dislikes. And you know what, Gamer Face? You just lost ALL your points that you had won with me for being the only semi-funny guy to contact me via match.com simply for being an arrogant ass who literally writes people off for liking something or someone different than you do.
And for the record, Dane Cook IS hilarious. If you don't laugh at his description of working the Burger King drive-thru, I don't want to be your friend, much less your internet girlfriend.
Just goes to show, you're not getting in to the BK Lounge of Sarah's love without coups. Not without coups.
Again, my apologies for the lengthy delay in posting. I promise I'll start posting more when SOMEONE NORMAL WINKS AT ME.
I'm not going to lie to you, I thought we had a winner there for a minute on Sunday. A chubby, somewhat balding guy actually wrote me an interesting, somewhat funny email that was 100% emoticon-free. SCORE! (But seriously. I LOVE chubby, balding funny guys.)
I was SO excited I wrote back almost immediately, which hasn't happened since that nightmare with the guy who wanted to date his cleaning lady or whatever. He (Brandon, not the bizarro cleaning lady guy) had mentioned in his first email that he owned a Wii and so therefore could teach me how to play video games, and in my response I mentioned that I was excited about that.
Then, in his response to MY response (try to keep up) he drops the bomb: he was one of the guys who camped out overnight to purchase said Wii.
Umm. Yeah. About that.
I was kind of hoping that by saying I was interested in learning how to play video games in my profile I would find myself a nice guy with a PS2 who would teach me the basics of Madden 06 or something. I was NOT hoping for one of those weirdos who love "gaming" so much that they (a) consider it a legitimate sport and (b) sleep outside a Best Buy IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WINTER to spend hundreds of dollars on a "system." The whole thing smells of creepiness and dirty laundry (you know, because his mom hasn't done it yet. Because he still lives at home. Ick.)
But you know what guys? You would be proud of me. I didn't write him off right then and there. No, I pushed passed that giant warning sign and pretended that I was okay with the fact that he has probably at one point in his life tried to earn money as a "professional" gamer.
So we'll skip to the next paragraph of his response, in which he asked me if I had heard of/was a fan of Eddie Izzard, the British cross-dressing stand-up comedian.
Why yes, yes I had heard of Eddia Izzard I told him in my response. And though I liked him, I thought Mitch Hedberg was awesome and (though I fully admitted that he was kind of played out) I told him that I thought Dane Cook was hilarious.
Fast forward to this afternoon. I'm greeted with an email from The Gamer which went on at length about video games (JESUS BRANDON. I'm a girl you're trying to date, not your 13 year old brother!) I come to this lovely paragraph:
"What I don't understand is how you can like Dane Cook. He's one of the least funny people I've ever heard. I'm not going to lie, you lose a few points in my eyes for thinking he's hilarious."
Ok. First of all, since when did we start with this whole points system thing? Puka Shells seems to think that we, too are on a points system: "score a huge point for lking beer... you could have gotten two huge points if you were more into sports, but you really only have to be around me a short time and you'll get ur point... "
Puka shells, let's use the spell check, shall we? And to the both of you...ENOUGH WITH THE POINTS. We're not competing here, and if we were, you would both lose BIG TIME for either (a) flagrant abuse of shell necklaces or (b) still being obsessed with video games when you are 26 YEARS OLD. It's just such a ridiculous way to make conversation/to let me know how you feel about my likes and dislikes. And you know what, Gamer Face? You just lost ALL your points that you had won with me for being the only semi-funny guy to contact me via match.com simply for being an arrogant ass who literally writes people off for liking something or someone different than you do.
And for the record, Dane Cook IS hilarious. If you don't laugh at his description of working the Burger King drive-thru, I don't want to be your friend, much less your internet girlfriend.
Just goes to show, you're not getting in to the BK Lounge of Sarah's love without coups. Not without coups.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Day 47
I'm so sorry I've left all...none of you hanging for almost 2 weeks. I would have posted, but...well, there's literally nothing new to post. I've been exchanging emails with a guy named JD who seems very nice and normal but...well, I'll shoot you straight. He's wearing puka shells in his profile picture.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not going to immediately write this guy off for puka shells. Puka shells are not on the same level as emoticons, or excessive exclamation points, or 35 year-olds who "often visit my folks up here in Naperville on Sundays, Would you be up for a drink or movie tonight!?" and who then give me their phone number and sign off "hope to talk to you soon Gorgeous." Ok...I've never seen a more blatant attempt at a 1 night stand in my entire life. And where would we have this 1 night stand? HIS PARENTS' HOUSE? Awesome.
But back to the puka shells. In my experience, every single guy I've ever met over the age of 16 who wears puka shells is a gigantic tool. I mean, ENORMOUS. Like frosts-his-tips, wears-overly-tight-ringer-tees-with-lame-suggestive-phrases-like-"grab-a-girl-pack-the-car-pitch-a-tent," doesn't-drink-beer-because-he's-afraid-it-will-go-straight-to-his-man-boobs TOOL. I'll let it slide and keep you posted on how it goes, but I'm not overly optimistic.
IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: I just googled Abercrombie, because guys who shop at that store epitomize my reasons for the puka shell aversion, and the shirts that they have are honest to God the most ridiculous things I have ever seen. Some of my favorites include:
- "I'm a nice guy...I'll finish last."
- "I'll make you a star on the walk of shame."
- "Sex without love is just exercise"
- and every one's favorite "Abercrombie: Sexy never left."
If I ever meet the person who came up with these slogans, I will not hesitate for a second before punching him or her directly in the baby maker. DIRECTLY.
I guess that's all for now.
Why does Abercrombie even exist?
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not going to immediately write this guy off for puka shells. Puka shells are not on the same level as emoticons, or excessive exclamation points, or 35 year-olds who "often visit my folks up here in Naperville on Sundays, Would you be up for a drink or movie tonight!?" and who then give me their phone number and sign off "hope to talk to you soon Gorgeous." Ok...I've never seen a more blatant attempt at a 1 night stand in my entire life. And where would we have this 1 night stand? HIS PARENTS' HOUSE? Awesome.
But back to the puka shells. In my experience, every single guy I've ever met over the age of 16 who wears puka shells is a gigantic tool. I mean, ENORMOUS. Like frosts-his-tips, wears-overly-tight-ringer-tees-with-lame-suggestive-phrases-like-"grab-a-girl-pack-the-car-pitch-a-tent," doesn't-drink-beer-because-he's-afraid-it-will-go-straight-to-his-man-boobs TOOL. I'll let it slide and keep you posted on how it goes, but I'm not overly optimistic.
IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: I just googled Abercrombie, because guys who shop at that store epitomize my reasons for the puka shell aversion, and the shirts that they have are honest to God the most ridiculous things I have ever seen. Some of my favorites include:
- "I'm a nice guy...I'll finish last."
- "I'll make you a star on the walk of shame."
- "Sex without love is just exercise"
- and every one's favorite "Abercrombie: Sexy never left."
If I ever meet the person who came up with these slogans, I will not hesitate for a second before punching him or her directly in the baby maker. DIRECTLY.
I guess that's all for now.
Why does Abercrombie even exist?
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Day 36
There's nothing new to report (including anything having to do with the hot guy that winked at me...worst) so instead I give you the 2nd email that the crazy cleaning lady man sent me. (I've left his name at the end so that if you ever meet a Mike from Arlington Heights, IL, you can RUN, not walk, in the opposite direction. Honestly - WHY IS HE TELLING ME ABOUT HIS STAINED SHEETS??) This is one for the record books, kids...
"my cleaning lady was AMAZING. Before she came over, I made coffee. I was sittin on the couch and she offered to bring a cup when it was done. She offered to change my sheets....not because of the huge stain but as a nice gesture. hahaha. (my own jokes are hilarious) OH after she brought me the coffee she cleaned the inside of the coffee maker and threw out the grains. SHe also organized the food in my fridge...haha label out. Great day yesterday! Now, time to recover from too many budlights. talk to ya - Mike"
Aaaaand we're done.
"my cleaning lady was AMAZING. Before she came over, I made coffee. I was sittin on the couch and she offered to bring a cup when it was done. She offered to change my sheets....not because of the huge stain but as a nice gesture. hahaha. (my own jokes are hilarious) OH after she brought me the coffee she cleaned the inside of the coffee maker and threw out the grains. SHe also organized the food in my fridge...haha label out. Great day yesterday! Now, time to recover from too many budlights. talk to ya - Mike"
Aaaaand we're done.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Day 34
A really attractive guy, who is in my age range, winked at me today.
I'm in uncharted waters here, folks.
Out of my element. Slightly nervous. A little nauseous.
I'm due at a GORGEOUS friend's house in 30 minutes...I'll ask her how to proceed and get back to you.
I mean...wow. He is HOT. Like, conventionally hot.
And NOT ONE EMOTICON ANYWHERE TO BE FOUND IN THE PROFILE.
It's a Tuesday afternoon miracle!
I'm in uncharted waters here, folks.
Out of my element. Slightly nervous. A little nauseous.
I'm due at a GORGEOUS friend's house in 30 minutes...I'll ask her how to proceed and get back to you.
I mean...wow. He is HOT. Like, conventionally hot.
And NOT ONE EMOTICON ANYWHERE TO BE FOUND IN THE PROFILE.
It's a Tuesday afternoon miracle!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Day 32
In the cut-and-paste spirit of the weekend, I give you the email I just got from one of the two guys whose winks I returned on Friday.
"So i just moved into my condo a few weeks ago and have been thinking about getting a cleaning lady for the heck of it for almost a month. My place is no where near the level for a cleaning lady but im really curious how well this they really clean. So I'm "treating" myself. Didnt stay out too late tonight, reserved some cash flow and forked over 50 bucks for a cleaning lady to come over at 9am and clean my condo from top to bottom. I guess i just had to tell someone cuz maybe im feelin guilty haha. So that's whats going on in my world......ahaha TOP THAT!"
Honest to god, I read that entire thing (up until the 2nd to last sentence...if you count the "ahaha TOP THAT" challenge as a sentence) thinking this guy was about to offer me $50 to clean his condo.
Why did he tell me this? Did he think this is what I mean by "genius-level pee-your-pants hilarity"?? Because telling me that you're too lazy to clean your gross condo isn't funny. I feel like he had to add the "ahaha" at the end just so that I knew he was kidding and trying to be funny...even though he wasn't kidding and it's not funny.
Yuck.
"So i just moved into my condo a few weeks ago and have been thinking about getting a cleaning lady for the heck of it for almost a month. My place is no where near the level for a cleaning lady but im really curious how well this they really clean. So I'm "treating" myself. Didnt stay out too late tonight, reserved some cash flow and forked over 50 bucks for a cleaning lady to come over at 9am and clean my condo from top to bottom. I guess i just had to tell someone cuz maybe im feelin guilty haha. So that's whats going on in my world......ahaha TOP THAT!"
Honest to god, I read that entire thing (up until the 2nd to last sentence...if you count the "ahaha TOP THAT" challenge as a sentence) thinking this guy was about to offer me $50 to clean his condo.
Why did he tell me this? Did he think this is what I mean by "genius-level pee-your-pants hilarity"?? Because telling me that you're too lazy to clean your gross condo isn't funny. I feel like he had to add the "ahaha" at the end just so that I knew he was kidding and trying to be funny...even though he wasn't kidding and it's not funny.
Yuck.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Day 30
As a Friday treat, and because I'm way burned out from the all-day sales conference I had today, I'm just going to give you the entirety of the profile of one of the 4 (!!) guys that winked at me today:
I love to meet a pertner in life, some willing to go the long distance. Respect should be important. work through thick and thin. We will have our ups and downs what ever we make of it. Some that is not self centered. but thinks of me. For i will think of her and how to bless her heart. Open minded. Most of all loving, merciful, compationate. and again we can at it nobody is perfect. i cant change a person, but i can be there for her :).. I can help with love and understaning.
Enough said.
Happy weekend everybody!
I love to meet a pertner in life, some willing to go the long distance. Respect should be important. work through thick and thin. We will have our ups and downs what ever we make of it. Some that is not self centered. but thinks of me. For i will think of her and how to bless her heart. Open minded. Most of all loving, merciful, compationate. and again we can at it nobody is perfect. i cant change a person, but i can be there for her :).. I can help with love and understaning.
Enough said.
Happy weekend everybody!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Day 30
I’m confused.
2 guys winked at me today (yay!) both were actually pretty cute (yay!) and neither used emoticons anywhere in their profiles (YAY!)
So one is 25 and I think I’ll definitely wink back, even though he made the classic their/there mistake in his profile which kind of bugs me. Not as much as emoticons, but still…I get the feeling that I’m being a bit too picky with these guys, so I’ve decided to try to be a little nicer…at least to their cyberfaces. I hope you understand that I am still going to rip them apart here in my little corner of cyber…space. Huh. Well that’s not at all a witty combo of the word “cyber” with some other word. Shoot.
Anyway, I’ll let you know how that goes.
The reason I am confused is because of the other guy:
1) He’s 22. My age range is 23-30. But that’s not actually what’s weird to me.
2) He is an atheist who doesn’t drink. (I guess this doesn’t really confuse me either; I just thought it was interesting.)
3) He lists his body type as “heavy set.” He is not at ALL heavy set. He is decidedly “about average” or possibly even “athletic and toned” though I can’t say for sure because all of his pictures involve him wearing a shirt. I don’t understand!
4) He spells European “Euripean” and stubborn “stuburn” yet he says he “just graduated from college.” Is that even possible?
5) In one of his pictures he is holding (I am not making this up) THE WORLD’S LARGEST MACHETE. Now, I don’t know if it is, in fact, the world’s largest machete. In all fairness, I could be making that part up. But from the looks of it, it measures about 1 ½ feet wide and like 4 feet long. It looks like an extremely sharp, extremely large cookie sheet on a stick. WHAT??
6) He’s only 4 inches taller than me, and I’m 5’2”. You do the math. (Seriously, you do it. When I tried to figure out how old someone was when they passed away today, I came up with 66, which is fine, except he was born in 1945 and died in 2007.)
I feel like maybe someone posted this profile as a joke. I mean, let’s look at the facts: 22, can’t spell, doesn’t understand what “heavy set” means, very, very tiny and posts pictures of himself wielding a giant knife? IT JUST DOESN’T ADD UP.
Like I said, I’m confused.
2 guys winked at me today (yay!) both were actually pretty cute (yay!) and neither used emoticons anywhere in their profiles (YAY!)
So one is 25 and I think I’ll definitely wink back, even though he made the classic their/there mistake in his profile which kind of bugs me. Not as much as emoticons, but still…I get the feeling that I’m being a bit too picky with these guys, so I’ve decided to try to be a little nicer…at least to their cyberfaces. I hope you understand that I am still going to rip them apart here in my little corner of cyber…space. Huh. Well that’s not at all a witty combo of the word “cyber” with some other word. Shoot.
Anyway, I’ll let you know how that goes.
The reason I am confused is because of the other guy:
1) He’s 22. My age range is 23-30. But that’s not actually what’s weird to me.
2) He is an atheist who doesn’t drink. (I guess this doesn’t really confuse me either; I just thought it was interesting.)
3) He lists his body type as “heavy set.” He is not at ALL heavy set. He is decidedly “about average” or possibly even “athletic and toned” though I can’t say for sure because all of his pictures involve him wearing a shirt. I don’t understand!
4) He spells European “Euripean” and stubborn “stuburn” yet he says he “just graduated from college.” Is that even possible?
5) In one of his pictures he is holding (I am not making this up) THE WORLD’S LARGEST MACHETE. Now, I don’t know if it is, in fact, the world’s largest machete. In all fairness, I could be making that part up. But from the looks of it, it measures about 1 ½ feet wide and like 4 feet long. It looks like an extremely sharp, extremely large cookie sheet on a stick. WHAT??
6) He’s only 4 inches taller than me, and I’m 5’2”. You do the math. (Seriously, you do it. When I tried to figure out how old someone was when they passed away today, I came up with 66, which is fine, except he was born in 1945 and died in 2007.)
I feel like maybe someone posted this profile as a joke. I mean, let’s look at the facts: 22, can’t spell, doesn’t understand what “heavy set” means, very, very tiny and posts pictures of himself wielding a giant knife? IT JUST DOESN’T ADD UP.
Like I said, I’m confused.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Day 29
I only need to say 2 things.
1) I got an email last night from the powers-that-be at match.com informing me that either my headline (which, as we all know, I had just tried to alter) or my username was not up to match.com’s rigorous standards.
Now, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned what my username is before this, so let me tell you a little story.
When I first decided to sign up for this cyber lovefest, the very first thing they ask of you is to come up with a username. Now, I know I’ve mentioned some real classics prior to this post (“psycho” and “chicagohunk21” both spring to mind) but I didn’t really understand at this (apparently) critical first crossroads that I was coming up with a username that other people would actually see (I’m hoping “psycho” made the same mistake, but I think that hope died with the completion of his full-sleeve tats.)
Anyway, first I tried to use literally my entire name, which coincidentally is also my gmail address. Thank GOD that was already in use, most likely by someone else who reeeeally didn’t get the whole match.com setup. So I settled on RileySG, my last name and my first 2 initials. When I finally did figure out that legit every guy who looked at my profile saw my username, I was admittedly a little weirded out. I mean, these dudes live within a few miles of me. How hard could it be for that medieval knight to use his medieval tracking skills and come galloping in to my living room late one night, swords blazing? But typical Sarah…I spent like 2 minutes dwelling on it and then Lost was on and I was checked out. Never really thought about it again.
Which brings us back to last night’s email. Now, wouldn’t it have been awesome if match.com separated two COMPLETELY UNRELATED issues (headlines and usernames) so that you could easier decipher what the problem was? Yes, it would be awesome, but no, match.com prefers to combine as much as possible in as few emails as possible. Awesome.
So since I had just changed my headline to “Awesomeness and Hilarity Required” I skimmed through the headline requirements and even though:
1) It wasn’t sexually explicit or profane
2) It was in English
3) It didn’t solicit, and
4) It had no detailed personal information i.e. last names, phone numbers, etc.
I obviously still thought, “Well, it’s gotta be the headline” which I promptly logged on and switched to “What was all that one in a million talk?” which actually I like better.
And then I read through the requirements again. And number 4 REEEEALLY popped out at me. And then I logged on and changed my username to just my initials and my age.
I mean, I would feel stupid about the whole thing if it hadn’t taken match.com A FULL 4 WEEKS to realize that my username wasn’t appropriate. Come on! I could have been skewered on the end of a jousting…stick (or whatever they call them) by now!
But I got a better headline out of it, so really it was a win-win.
2) I had a dream last night in which I had a date with a match.com person and it turned out it was Danny DeVito. My dad was really excited for me. I was whatever the opposite of really excited is.
He did give me a really cool pair of tennis shoes though (Danny, not my dad.)
1) I got an email last night from the powers-that-be at match.com informing me that either my headline (which, as we all know, I had just tried to alter) or my username was not up to match.com’s rigorous standards.
Now, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned what my username is before this, so let me tell you a little story.
When I first decided to sign up for this cyber lovefest, the very first thing they ask of you is to come up with a username. Now, I know I’ve mentioned some real classics prior to this post (“psycho” and “chicagohunk21” both spring to mind) but I didn’t really understand at this (apparently) critical first crossroads that I was coming up with a username that other people would actually see (I’m hoping “psycho” made the same mistake, but I think that hope died with the completion of his full-sleeve tats.)
Anyway, first I tried to use literally my entire name, which coincidentally is also my gmail address. Thank GOD that was already in use, most likely by someone else who reeeeally didn’t get the whole match.com setup. So I settled on RileySG, my last name and my first 2 initials. When I finally did figure out that legit every guy who looked at my profile saw my username, I was admittedly a little weirded out. I mean, these dudes live within a few miles of me. How hard could it be for that medieval knight to use his medieval tracking skills and come galloping in to my living room late one night, swords blazing? But typical Sarah…I spent like 2 minutes dwelling on it and then Lost was on and I was checked out. Never really thought about it again.
Which brings us back to last night’s email. Now, wouldn’t it have been awesome if match.com separated two COMPLETELY UNRELATED issues (headlines and usernames) so that you could easier decipher what the problem was? Yes, it would be awesome, but no, match.com prefers to combine as much as possible in as few emails as possible. Awesome.
So since I had just changed my headline to “Awesomeness and Hilarity Required” I skimmed through the headline requirements and even though:
1) It wasn’t sexually explicit or profane
2) It was in English
3) It didn’t solicit, and
4) It had no detailed personal information i.e. last names, phone numbers, etc.
I obviously still thought, “Well, it’s gotta be the headline” which I promptly logged on and switched to “What was all that one in a million talk?” which actually I like better.
And then I read through the requirements again. And number 4 REEEEALLY popped out at me. And then I logged on and changed my username to just my initials and my age.
I mean, I would feel stupid about the whole thing if it hadn’t taken match.com A FULL 4 WEEKS to realize that my username wasn’t appropriate. Come on! I could have been skewered on the end of a jousting…stick (or whatever they call them) by now!
But I got a better headline out of it, so really it was a win-win.
2) I had a dream last night in which I had a date with a match.com person and it turned out it was Danny DeVito. My dad was really excited for me. I was whatever the opposite of really excited is.
He did give me a really cool pair of tennis shoes though (Danny, not my dad.)
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Day 28
When I mentioned last week to a co-worker that I hadn’t been winked at in what felt like decades (actual time: 3 or 4 days) she told me I needed to update my profile so that I got cycled back up to the top of the cyberheap.
‘No!’ I cried. ‘I loooove my profile. It’s so witty and hilarious and awesome!’
And then I started thinking…It’s also crazy long, contains factual inaccuracies (I refer you to the penguin/mammal/bird debacle from last week) and is extremely, almost heart-breakingly specific…plus on 2nd glance it’s not that awesome. I also hated my ‘headline’ (‘Someone More Hilarious than Me.’) While it did state what exactly I am looking for, it also makes me sound like the arrogant bratface that I am…and we are NOT ready for all that cyber-man-meat to see my bratface. That is better saved for an in-person meeting…or marriage, whichever comes first.
So I did it.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: My New Improved Profile. (Please note the blog shout-out at the bottom. You are welcome.)
Please feel free to leave comments as to how it could be improved upon. Also, as of right now my headline is as follows:
Awesomeness and Hilarity Required
How do we feel about that? I kind of hate it and I’m going to need to keep making these damn changes if I want to stay on top of the cyberheap, so for REALS this time, sent along some advice.
And now…my new profile:
Hi there! My name is Sarah and I love Caddyshack, Jack Black, dogs and Bud Light. I hate the dentist, emoticons, unnecessary exclamation points and the feel of raw meat. I was on a bowling team for 3 years in college called “Busch League Balls” but I still rarely break 100. I love elephants, sea otters, penguins and Law & Order. I like to sleep with a fan on, even in the dead of winter. My favorite meal is breakfast and my favorite restaurant is any establishment that serves breakfast 24 hours a day. I don’t care for zoos but I really like aquariums. Cats terrify me. I have bad dreams based solely on advertisements for horror movies, particularly all PG-13 scary movies like The Others or The Mothman Prophesies. I love champagne. I hate watching people make out on reality TV.
The only quality I really care about in my cybermate is absolute, genius-level, pee-your-pants hilarity. With that said, it would be tremendous if he were also smart and okay with teaching me how to play video games. I see him as the kind of person who practices his golf swing in his living room while watching the Masters but doesn't actually play golf; however, if he could help me with my goal of breaking 100 at the ol’ alley, that would be fantastic. He is outgoing and charming and he can fix things like my toilet that flushes roughly 12 times for every one time I push down the handle. He likes his parents. He is, generally speaking, awesome.
(Side note: The above qualities are merely loose guidelines. If you play golf and are hilarious, or if you aren’t in to fixing toilets and are hilarious, or if you don’t look like Jack Black and are hilarious, that’s totally fine with me. Awesomeness and hilarity are non-negotiable, though. Sorry Un-Funny Lame Guy.)
It’s okay to look, guys. It’s also okay to wink.
------------------------------
Ok now that I’ve read it I kind of still hate it.
I’ll leave it for now, but honestly. SEND SOME ADVICE. I’m struggling here with my lack of winks and trying-too-hard-profiles.
‘No!’ I cried. ‘I loooove my profile. It’s so witty and hilarious and awesome!’
And then I started thinking…It’s also crazy long, contains factual inaccuracies (I refer you to the penguin/mammal/bird debacle from last week) and is extremely, almost heart-breakingly specific…plus on 2nd glance it’s not that awesome. I also hated my ‘headline’ (‘Someone More Hilarious than Me.’) While it did state what exactly I am looking for, it also makes me sound like the arrogant bratface that I am…and we are NOT ready for all that cyber-man-meat to see my bratface. That is better saved for an in-person meeting…or marriage, whichever comes first.
So I did it.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: My New Improved Profile. (Please note the blog shout-out at the bottom. You are welcome.)
Please feel free to leave comments as to how it could be improved upon. Also, as of right now my headline is as follows:
Awesomeness and Hilarity Required
How do we feel about that? I kind of hate it and I’m going to need to keep making these damn changes if I want to stay on top of the cyberheap, so for REALS this time, sent along some advice.
And now…my new profile:
Hi there! My name is Sarah and I love Caddyshack, Jack Black, dogs and Bud Light. I hate the dentist, emoticons, unnecessary exclamation points and the feel of raw meat. I was on a bowling team for 3 years in college called “Busch League Balls” but I still rarely break 100. I love elephants, sea otters, penguins and Law & Order. I like to sleep with a fan on, even in the dead of winter. My favorite meal is breakfast and my favorite restaurant is any establishment that serves breakfast 24 hours a day. I don’t care for zoos but I really like aquariums. Cats terrify me. I have bad dreams based solely on advertisements for horror movies, particularly all PG-13 scary movies like The Others or The Mothman Prophesies. I love champagne. I hate watching people make out on reality TV.
The only quality I really care about in my cybermate is absolute, genius-level, pee-your-pants hilarity. With that said, it would be tremendous if he were also smart and okay with teaching me how to play video games. I see him as the kind of person who practices his golf swing in his living room while watching the Masters but doesn't actually play golf; however, if he could help me with my goal of breaking 100 at the ol’ alley, that would be fantastic. He is outgoing and charming and he can fix things like my toilet that flushes roughly 12 times for every one time I push down the handle. He likes his parents. He is, generally speaking, awesome.
(Side note: The above qualities are merely loose guidelines. If you play golf and are hilarious, or if you aren’t in to fixing toilets and are hilarious, or if you don’t look like Jack Black and are hilarious, that’s totally fine with me. Awesomeness and hilarity are non-negotiable, though. Sorry Un-Funny Lame Guy.)
It’s okay to look, guys. It’s also okay to wink.
------------------------------
Ok now that I’ve read it I kind of still hate it.
I’ll leave it for now, but honestly. SEND SOME ADVICE. I’m struggling here with my lack of winks and trying-too-hard-profiles.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Day 23
Still nothing from "Adam." Or just Adam, I guess.
Did I wait too long and now cyberlove has passed me by?
I feel like things move a heck of a lot quicker in Matchland than they do in the real world (not the ACTUAL real world, where hot 20-year-olds get together in a big mansion and sleep with one another/decide to be in one another's weddings/engage in just SCADS of girl-on-girl action minute 9 of their first day in Denver, but the real world in which I scam on cyber dudes and then pointedly ignore them for 5 days.)
That whole 5 day thing…I think that wasn't my best choice.
But you know what, Adam? YOU try to cyberflirt with your father strapping on his rollerblades not 3 feet behind you, chatting away about when your flight takes off! That shit isn't easy – Plus, I don't want to have to explain you when I haven't even AIM-chatted with you yet, much less met you face-to-face. My parents don't need to meet ANOTHER internet boyfriend, okay?
(Side note: I more or less started dating my last boyfriend via AIM…IN MY DEFENSE though, I met him face-to-face before we ever started chatting online. Once. When we were both kind of (very) hung over. And he didn't really remember me when I IMd him. Whatever it's not important.)
Ugh I am VERY disappointed with online dating in general right now.
Maybe I'll try eHarmony. I've always really liked Natalie Cole's "This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)" It's practically my theme song…that, or (their asterisk, not mine) "This is F*cking Tragic" by The Impossibles.
(Yup, never actually heard of that song or The Impossibles, but that's what came up when I Googled "my life is tragic, lyrics." Waaa waaaa.)
Plus, what says "love" more than a bunch of somewhat awkward couples standing around talking about their even MORE awkward first kisses?
Certainly not Adam…
Oh, also - I'm going out of town yet again this weekend, so I won't be posting 'til Monday - Hopefully by then Adam will either (a) have written me back or (b) have deactivated his account because he unexpectedly died, thereby totally explaining why he didn't write me back.
Kidding!
(Kind of...)
Did I wait too long and now cyberlove has passed me by?
I feel like things move a heck of a lot quicker in Matchland than they do in the real world (not the ACTUAL real world, where hot 20-year-olds get together in a big mansion and sleep with one another/decide to be in one another's weddings/engage in just SCADS of girl-on-girl action minute 9 of their first day in Denver, but the real world in which I scam on cyber dudes and then pointedly ignore them for 5 days.)
That whole 5 day thing…I think that wasn't my best choice.
But you know what, Adam? YOU try to cyberflirt with your father strapping on his rollerblades not 3 feet behind you, chatting away about when your flight takes off! That shit isn't easy – Plus, I don't want to have to explain you when I haven't even AIM-chatted with you yet, much less met you face-to-face. My parents don't need to meet ANOTHER internet boyfriend, okay?
(Side note: I more or less started dating my last boyfriend via AIM…IN MY DEFENSE though, I met him face-to-face before we ever started chatting online. Once. When we were both kind of (very) hung over. And he didn't really remember me when I IMd him. Whatever it's not important.)
Ugh I am VERY disappointed with online dating in general right now.
Maybe I'll try eHarmony. I've always really liked Natalie Cole's "This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)" It's practically my theme song…that, or (their asterisk, not mine) "This is F*cking Tragic" by The Impossibles.
(Yup, never actually heard of that song or The Impossibles, but that's what came up when I Googled "my life is tragic, lyrics." Waaa waaaa.)
Plus, what says "love" more than a bunch of somewhat awkward couples standing around talking about their even MORE awkward first kisses?
Certainly not Adam…
Oh, also - I'm going out of town yet again this weekend, so I won't be posting 'til Monday - Hopefully by then Adam will either (a) have written me back or (b) have deactivated his account because he unexpectedly died, thereby totally explaining why he didn't write me back.
Kidding!
(Kind of...)
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Day 22
I responded to the email that the 26-year-old, non-emoticon-using (at least as far as I know) guy sent me (we'll call him Adam…because that is his name) answering the few questions he posed in his first email:
Adam: Do you live in east or west Aurora?
Sarah: Uhhh…well….if you...and then...What?
Sarah's actual answer: I live...excellent question. I actually just moved down here from Minnesota about 6 months ago and to be perfectly honest I STILL don't really know what's what. I live right next to Naperville - about 5 city blocks down from 59 - So...east Aurora? Yeah, we're going to go with east Aurora.
Adam: How long have you lived here?
Sarah: I already answered that above. (This was my actual answer. I had, in fact, already answered that question, and the answer was, in fact, located above this one.)
Adam: Do you ever go to downtown Naperville or do you just head down to the city?
Sarah: I hate the city and everyone in it.
Sarah's actual answer (even though the one above is closer to the truth): I actually rarely get down to the city - I hate the traffic and I actually have closer friends out here, so I tend to stay out this way. I go out in Naperville a lot, actually. Definitely more than Chicago. I like some of the bars around here - I love the Foundry actually. It's pretty close to my apartment and I'm a big beer drinker, so obviously the first thing I did when I moved here was buy one of their mugs...and then forget it at the bar that same night. So now I'm on mug #2...I've managed to hang out to it through several nights out, so I'm feeling pretty good about it.
Adam: I'm interested in learning more about you.
Sarah: THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU RESPONDED TO MY EMAIL?
I mean, I was witty if a little…uhh...well, stupid (I mean really, who doesn't know what part of Aurora they live in?) I was charming if a little booze-hound-sounding (perhaps I should have left out the part about getting a bit too "dizzy" (as my co-worker calls it) and leaving my giant mug at the bar…But that thing cost me like $15 of my hard-earned money and I think it's loss warrants a mention.) I was well-spoken if a touch heavy on the use of the word "actually" in paragraph #3. All in all I think it was a successful email.
And by successful I mean he hasn't responded.
I feel fat and insecure.
Disclaimer: I know that "technically" I should give him as much time to respond to me as it took me to respond to him…which would be…wait for it I need to check the time stamp on the email…carry the 1…5 days, but that's not my style. Things we have learned about Sarah in the past 24 hours: She hates being corrected, she is not patient and when she gets rejected by someone on an online dating service she quotes the country-singing Iranian princess from the amazing but ill-fated E! reality classic, " Love is in the Heir."
Oh Ann Claire. You always knew just what to say.
Adam: Do you live in east or west Aurora?
Sarah: Uhhh…well….if you...and then...What?
Sarah's actual answer: I live...excellent question. I actually just moved down here from Minnesota about 6 months ago and to be perfectly honest I STILL don't really know what's what. I live right next to Naperville - about 5 city blocks down from 59 - So...east Aurora? Yeah, we're going to go with east Aurora.
Adam: How long have you lived here?
Sarah: I already answered that above. (This was my actual answer. I had, in fact, already answered that question, and the answer was, in fact, located above this one.)
Adam: Do you ever go to downtown Naperville or do you just head down to the city?
Sarah: I hate the city and everyone in it.
Sarah's actual answer (even though the one above is closer to the truth): I actually rarely get down to the city - I hate the traffic and I actually have closer friends out here, so I tend to stay out this way. I go out in Naperville a lot, actually. Definitely more than Chicago. I like some of the bars around here - I love the Foundry actually. It's pretty close to my apartment and I'm a big beer drinker, so obviously the first thing I did when I moved here was buy one of their mugs...and then forget it at the bar that same night. So now I'm on mug #2...I've managed to hang out to it through several nights out, so I'm feeling pretty good about it.
Adam: I'm interested in learning more about you.
Sarah: THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU RESPONDED TO MY EMAIL?
I mean, I was witty if a little…uhh...well, stupid (I mean really, who doesn't know what part of Aurora they live in?) I was charming if a little booze-hound-sounding (perhaps I should have left out the part about getting a bit too "dizzy" (as my co-worker calls it) and leaving my giant mug at the bar…But that thing cost me like $15 of my hard-earned money and I think it's loss warrants a mention.) I was well-spoken if a touch heavy on the use of the word "actually" in paragraph #3. All in all I think it was a successful email.
And by successful I mean he hasn't responded.
I feel fat and insecure.
Disclaimer: I know that "technically" I should give him as much time to respond to me as it took me to respond to him…which would be…wait for it I need to check the time stamp on the email…carry the 1…5 days, but that's not my style. Things we have learned about Sarah in the past 24 hours: She hates being corrected, she is not patient and when she gets rejected by someone on an online dating service she quotes the country-singing Iranian princess from the amazing but ill-fated E! reality classic, " Love is in the Heir."
Oh Ann Claire. You always knew just what to say.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Day 21
Oh dear god - Just READING my gmail with all of the match.com business in the middle of my parents' kitchen down in AZ made me feel like I was trying to hide a drug addiction...except instead of needles and paraphernalia it was winks and awkward e-mails. I won't bore you with details except to say that only by the grace of god did I managed to grab the message sent to me by yet another 31 year-old off the printer that I accidentally printed out instead of my flight information before my father saw it.
One of these days he is going to find out and I am going to have some 'splaining to do.
But until then...
So the guy who winked at me with the emoticon at the end of the profile? Yeah, turns out he wasn't being ironic - Note the FIRST SENTENCE of the email he sent me:
"First off I don't mean to be mean or anything but I don't know that a penguin is a water-based mammal :-P"
Okay.
1) ENOUGH WITH THE EMOTICONS. You are a 24 year-old man. You should have outgrown the tongue-sticking-out-smiley-face by now. Figure out a different want to express your emotions...like sarcasm.
2) "I don't mean to be mean or anything"? Seriously? What is this, 5th grade and you're my friend Christine who would start out every other sentence to just about everybody including teachers with the words " no offence but..."? Come on.
3) Are you seriously correcting my profile in which I am clearly trying NOT to be serious? I don't know how much all you randos know about me, but just ask the person who I know who told you about my blog and they will tell you: I HATE BEING CORRECTED. I mean, I'm a reasonable person. If I'm wrong I'll admit it. But I mean, seriously? You're going to take issue with my assertion that I (a) like penguins and (b) think that penguins are mammals in sentence one? Next thing you know he'll be telling me to rethink that whole wanting-to-make-out-with-PC-from-the-Mac-commercials thing because I was wrong about that too...
OH WAIT.
"What if you got a chance to make out with PC from the mac commercials, but it was filmed to make a commercial would you still do it? Of course you would then be forced to watch the commercial there by forcing you to watch making out on TV. "
OH. NO. HE. DIDN'T.
Yes, yes he did.
I'm not even going to comment on that because...well mostly because I don't really understand what he's talking about. I mean, buddy...WHAT? How do you even come up with that situation?
Which leads me to the end of this little diatribe:
"Well I am bored and online a lot so if you want to chat sometime i'm on AIM at dragondogXXX"
THERE's the way to a girl's heart - Spends "a lot of time online" and is "bored" reads "has no job therefore leaving plenty of time to invent ridiculous Mac commercial scenarios" and is "friendless." Thanks but no thanks.
The other guy who responded actually seemed somewhat normal - Plus he's pretty cute. And he's 26 and not 30-38, which is tremendous. For all of us.
I'll keep you posted...but I swear to god, if he starts arguing with me about how awesome cats are, it. is. OVER.
Cats are the opposite of awesome. And penguins ARE mammals.
(Side note: I'm wrong. I just googled it. Penguins are birds, not mammals, so shut up to all you smartasses who were just cuing up the comment page to teach ME a thing or two. Dragon Dog up top already took care of it.)
One of these days he is going to find out and I am going to have some 'splaining to do.
But until then...
So the guy who winked at me with the emoticon at the end of the profile? Yeah, turns out he wasn't being ironic - Note the FIRST SENTENCE of the email he sent me:
"First off I don't mean to be mean or anything but I don't know that a penguin is a water-based mammal :-P"
Okay.
1) ENOUGH WITH THE EMOTICONS. You are a 24 year-old man. You should have outgrown the tongue-sticking-out-smiley-face by now. Figure out a different want to express your emotions...like sarcasm.
2) "I don't mean to be mean or anything"? Seriously? What is this, 5th grade and you're my friend Christine who would start out every other sentence to just about everybody including teachers with the words " no offence but..."? Come on.
3) Are you seriously correcting my profile in which I am clearly trying NOT to be serious? I don't know how much all you randos know about me, but just ask the person who I know who told you about my blog and they will tell you: I HATE BEING CORRECTED. I mean, I'm a reasonable person. If I'm wrong I'll admit it. But I mean, seriously? You're going to take issue with my assertion that I (a) like penguins and (b) think that penguins are mammals in sentence one? Next thing you know he'll be telling me to rethink that whole wanting-to-make-out-with-PC-from-the-Mac-commercials thing because I was wrong about that too...
OH WAIT.
"What if you got a chance to make out with PC from the mac commercials, but it was filmed to make a commercial would you still do it? Of course you would then be forced to watch the commercial there by forcing you to watch making out on TV. "
OH. NO. HE. DIDN'T.
Yes, yes he did.
I'm not even going to comment on that because...well mostly because I don't really understand what he's talking about. I mean, buddy...WHAT? How do you even come up with that situation?
Which leads me to the end of this little diatribe:
"Well I am bored and online a lot so if you want to chat sometime i'm on AIM at dragondogXXX"
THERE's the way to a girl's heart - Spends "a lot of time online" and is "bored" reads "has no job therefore leaving plenty of time to invent ridiculous Mac commercial scenarios" and is "friendless." Thanks but no thanks.
The other guy who responded actually seemed somewhat normal - Plus he's pretty cute. And he's 26 and not 30-38, which is tremendous. For all of us.
I'll keep you posted...but I swear to god, if he starts arguing with me about how awesome cats are, it. is. OVER.
Cats are the opposite of awesome. And penguins ARE mammals.
(Side note: I'm wrong. I just googled it. Penguins are birds, not mammals, so shut up to all you smartasses who were just cuing up the comment page to teach ME a thing or two. Dragon Dog up top already took care of it.)
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Day 16
Okay! Good news! I now have two guys who have winked at me in the past two days who I actually think I could sustain an online conversation with - One is 26 and one is 24, both are a little chubby and both have somewhat stimulating profiles. The 24 year-old is actually the most intriguing, but he ends his profile with a damn emoticon.
THEY ARE LIKE THE DAMN EBOLA VIRUS. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THEM NO MATTER HOW FAST YOU RUN.
Anyway, I'm going on vaca again this weekend, so I won't be posting 'til like Tuesday. Deal with it Kenny. Hopefully by then I'll have something fabulous to tell you about my new chubby boyfriend who was totally using the emoticon ironically.
Fingers crossed.
THEY ARE LIKE THE DAMN EBOLA VIRUS. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THEM NO MATTER HOW FAST YOU RUN.
Anyway, I'm going on vaca again this weekend, so I won't be posting 'til like Tuesday. Deal with it Kenny. Hopefully by then I'll have something fabulous to tell you about my new chubby boyfriend who was totally using the emoticon ironically.
Fingers crossed.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Day 16
Migrane. (Probably from too much winking.) Will post tomorrow. Back to bed. Sorry Kenny.
Sidenote: 36 year-old winked at me today. At 1:46 pm. Buddy, you're 36. Get a job and stop harassing the underage ladies
COACH CARR, STEP AWAY FROM THE UNDERAGE LADIES.
Ugh just looking at caps lock makes my temples throb.
Sidenote: 36 year-old winked at me today. At 1:46 pm. Buddy, you're 36. Get a job and stop harassing the underage ladies
COACH CARR, STEP AWAY FROM THE UNDERAGE LADIES.
Ugh just looking at caps lock makes my temples throb.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Day 15
Alright this is getting ridiculous. 3 guys have winked at me this week and EVERY SINGLE ONE of them was over the age of 30.
See, this is why I don't understand why this keeps happening to me - match.com makes trolling for cyber-ass really easy by lining up 25 different traits and comparing your preferences side-by-side to the person whose profile you're looking at. So, let's say I'm looking for a guy whose body type he would classify as "a few extra pounds" with brown eyes who likes wine tasting and considers tattoos a turn-on - match.com will tell me if he matches me on all those points, just like it will tell me if HE is looking for a girl who considers herself "about average" with blond hair, green eyes and a passion for Supertroopers and penguins.
Does that make sense?
Whatever that's not my point.
My point is that at the top of this list of 25 points that you can possible match on, at the very tippy top, is AGE. My preferred age range? 23-30.
And friends, 30 is an outer limit. A WAY outer limit.
Like, an I-was-just-trying-to-be-generous-and-not-limit-myself-to-jackass-frat-guys-just-out-of-college-type outer limit.
Yet here are these 33 year-olds and 35 year-olds winking at me like I'm the kind of recent college grad who would date a guy with an entire decade on me.
Let me clarify what kind of recent college grad I am:
I still secretly enjoy a hangover - not the feeling-like-death part but the eating-greasy-food-and-watching-old-episodes-of-Friends-on-VHS-that-were-made-while-I-was in-high-school-and-you-were-already-of-legal-drinking-age part.
I have a LOT of bad hip hop on my iPod and not one song by Air Supply or ZZ Top.
And while we're on the subject, I listen to my music on an iPod and not a Discman.
(Or for that matter, a WALKMAN.)
I have all my hair and I would prefer that my cyber date does too.
I'm still glory-dazing and since you keep winking at me, I'm going to go ahead and guess you must be, too.
I am still in the renting phase, not the buying-a-home-taking-on-a-mortgage phase.
Sometimes I dance around my apartment, and when I do, I'm not doing a dance that a choreographer taught me for my first wedding. Or my second.
I like MTV reality shows and that's okay because there are still people on them that are my age. Ever since Mark and Eric Nies officially retired from the challenges, you can no longer say the same.
I'M 23. YOU'RE 30-SOMETHING. YOU DO THE MATH.
See, this is why I don't understand why this keeps happening to me - match.com makes trolling for cyber-ass really easy by lining up 25 different traits and comparing your preferences side-by-side to the person whose profile you're looking at. So, let's say I'm looking for a guy whose body type he would classify as "a few extra pounds" with brown eyes who likes wine tasting and considers tattoos a turn-on - match.com will tell me if he matches me on all those points, just like it will tell me if HE is looking for a girl who considers herself "about average" with blond hair, green eyes and a passion for Supertroopers and penguins.
Does that make sense?
Whatever that's not my point.
My point is that at the top of this list of 25 points that you can possible match on, at the very tippy top, is AGE. My preferred age range? 23-30.
And friends, 30 is an outer limit. A WAY outer limit.
Like, an I-was-just-trying-to-be-generous-and-not-limit-myself-to-jackass-frat-guys-just-out-of-college-type outer limit.
Yet here are these 33 year-olds and 35 year-olds winking at me like I'm the kind of recent college grad who would date a guy with an entire decade on me.
Let me clarify what kind of recent college grad I am:
I still secretly enjoy a hangover - not the feeling-like-death part but the eating-greasy-food-and-watching-old-episodes-of-Friends-on-VHS-that-were-made-while-I-was in-high-school-and-you-were-already-of-legal-drinking-age part.
I have a LOT of bad hip hop on my iPod and not one song by Air Supply or ZZ Top.
And while we're on the subject, I listen to my music on an iPod and not a Discman.
(Or for that matter, a WALKMAN.)
I have all my hair and I would prefer that my cyber date does too.
I'm still glory-dazing and since you keep winking at me, I'm going to go ahead and guess you must be, too.
I am still in the renting phase, not the buying-a-home-taking-on-a-mortgage phase.
Sometimes I dance around my apartment, and when I do, I'm not doing a dance that a choreographer taught me for my first wedding. Or my second.
I like MTV reality shows and that's okay because there are still people on them that are my age. Ever since Mark and Eric Nies officially retired from the challenges, you can no longer say the same.
I'M 23. YOU'RE 30-SOMETHING. YOU DO THE MATH.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Day 14
First off, let me just apologize to my loyal reader for not posting the last 3 days. I went back to the homeland for the weekend and was simply too busy to pay attention to my online dating life/blog.
LIES. I was just too embarrassed to update my blog/log on to match.com on my parents’ computer, which is conveniently located smack-dab in the middle of our living room.
(I actually tried twice, but the first time my dad walked in and started aggressively reading over my shoulder because he thought I was checking out my progress on my NCAA bracket. No, Dad, I’m actually online trying to meet a man. Would you like to sit down over a cup of tea and strumpets and talk about that? No? You wouldn’t? Me neither. Now go watch the game highlights on ESPN 34 like a normal person.)
(Oh, and go
(FYI: The second time I thought somebody was walking in but it turned out to just be my dog but then I had already closed the window and was too lazy to open the browser and re-type the link and re-sign in and blah blah blah.)
So anyway, my apologies to
Despite the fact that I wasn’t constantly updating you all, I was thinking about you. And by you, I mean all the illiterate weirdos and medieval knights that have winked at me so far. See, I’ve done my fair share of winking myself, and let me tell you, I'm not going to virtually put myself out there like that for just anyone. Each guy was carefully scrutinized and judged, and they each seemed really...well, passable, and more importantly, attractive. (For those of you who don’t know me, my definition of “attractive” is probably not the same as yours. Just so we’re on the same page here, I’ll give you a few examples: I think Eric from MTV's Infernos I and II is attractive. You would most likely beg to differ. (Actually I think he’s so attractive I signed up for MySpace just so I could be his friend, but then I lost my nerve so now I’m only friends with 4 people, and 1 of them is technically a cat. But I digress.) I think Jack Black is attractive. I’m going to go ahead and guess that again, you would disagree with me. I thought every single guy on the football team at my college was – and is (call me!) - attractive, include the one who wore mesh shorts when he ran out of underwear instead of doing laundry and peed in to an open window of a freshman dorm…and inside a rather small elevator…and one time when we were walking back to his dorm room from a party…just for the heck of it. I can tell you right now that most normal people find the vast majority of those guys decidedly unattractive. (And here, when I say “normal people” I’m talking about my college roommates, who, for those of you who know them, know that use of the term “normal” in this context is debatable))
(Love you guys)
So anyway, I’ve winked at probably 10-15 dudes at this point, and only one of them (Mr. Emoticon) has bothered to contact me. What GIVES? I mean, we’re all on match.com here, fellas. I think we’ve officially reached one of those inevitable don’t-look-a-gift-horse-in-the-mouth moments. Let me just put it out there - I’m not bad looking, (plus I’m really photogenic which – hello – BONUS when it comes to online dating) I’m completely literate, most of the time I don’t smell bad, I almost always remember to brush my teeth and if I don’t I have a back-up at my desk just in case which means I’m also very organized and on top of things and I've never left a Ziploc bag of poop on a guy's kitchen counter. (But I know someone who haaaas!) I am a veritable internet dreamboat! And yet, just like in the real world, there seems to be a match.com hierarchy. The guys who played football and lacrosse in college (and with screen names like “laxman345” and “QB_NIU” it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who they are…or why I heart them) are just not that in to me, whereas the guys with full-sleeve tattoos and in-home jousting rings are all up on me.
So does that make me the medieval knight to their sarcastic blond cyber-dater?
Oh dear god.
Am I their guy-wearing-pleather-in-his-profile-picture?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Day 10
My first full day with NO communication whatsoever from Mr. Emoticon...turns out I didn't need all your advice ANYWAY (but thanks to the 3 of you who did weigh in. Love you like a 2/3 anonymous and 1/3 crazy Army-loving sister.) Looks like
OH MY SWEET GOOD GOD. I am not making this up, he legit JUST IM'd me. Like I was concentrating really hard on my next jackass comment and looked up and OOPS I'm typing in his little IM box.
Note the time stamp:
iceNIU XXXX (9:17:17 PM): so meet any more knights?
Note the emoticon:
iceNIU XXXX (9:17:34 PM): :)
Are you kidding me? What a creapy stalker :(
Oh sweet jesus AND he uses the "r" instead of "are" and "u" instead of "you:"
iceNIU XXX (9:18:54 PM): how r u?
This guy is literally my cyber-nightmare.
Alright that's it. No more of this ignore-him-and-he'll-go-away crap. This guy CLEARLY does not pick up on my subtle signals...and by "subtle signals" I mean no response or communication of any kind for the last 5 days. Yup, real subtle.
The afghan scenario painted by Mandy's co-worker is looking - in all seriousness - more probable by the minute.
UPDATE! I DID IT:
pureSuGaRXX (9:23:41 PM): listen I have to be honest with you - I'm just not really feeling this right now
(Disclaimer - the last characters in my screen name are not XX, I'm not THAT much of a singles-grabbing, g-string-wearing, lady of the night. I just don't want all you crazies sending me IMs filled with emoticons and excessive exclamation points at all hours of the night...But yeah, the puresugar part? That's alllll me.
I've never been so embarassed in all my days on this earth...or at least not since I started a blog about my experiences online dating.
Waaa waaaa.)
He actually took it pretty well:
iceNIU XXXX (9:24:45 PM): no problem. been nice chattin a bit.
And then:
iceNIU XXXX (9:25:07 PM): :)
OH COME ON.
Well thank God that's done. My first match.com rejection went amazingly well. I feel fantastic.
God I hope I don't see him at Features.
OH MY SWEET GOOD GOD. I am not making this up, he legit JUST IM'd me. Like I was concentrating really hard on my next jackass comment and looked up and OOPS I'm typing in his little IM box.
Note the time stamp:
iceNIU XXXX (9:17:17 PM): so meet any more knights?
Note the emoticon:
iceNIU XXXX (9:17:34 PM): :)
Are you kidding me? What a creapy stalker :(
Oh sweet jesus AND he uses the "r" instead of "are" and "u" instead of "you:"
iceNIU XXX (9:18:54 PM): how r u?
This guy is literally my cyber-nightmare.
Alright that's it. No more of this ignore-him-and-he'll-go-away crap. This guy CLEARLY does not pick up on my subtle signals...and by "subtle signals" I mean no response or communication of any kind for the last 5 days. Yup, real subtle.
The afghan scenario painted by Mandy's co-worker is looking - in all seriousness - more probable by the minute.
UPDATE! I DID IT:
pureSuGaRXX (9:23:41 PM): listen I have to be honest with you - I'm just not really feeling this right now
(Disclaimer - the last characters in my screen name are not XX, I'm not THAT much of a singles-grabbing, g-string-wearing, lady of the night. I just don't want all you crazies sending me IMs filled with emoticons and excessive exclamation points at all hours of the night...But yeah, the puresugar part? That's alllll me.
I've never been so embarassed in all my days on this earth...or at least not since I started a blog about my experiences online dating.
Waaa waaaa.)
He actually took it pretty well:
iceNIU XXXX (9:24:45 PM): no problem. been nice chattin a bit.
And then:
iceNIU XXXX (9:25:07 PM): :)
OH COME ON.
Well thank God that's done. My first match.com rejection went amazingly well. I feel fantastic.
God I hope I don't see him at Features.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Day 9
No winks. Not one. For a solid 24 hours. Did they find my blog? Do they know that instead of actually considering dating them I'm just holding them up for public ridicule and general mocking?
I feel cyberjected. Mr. Emoticon (the artist formerly known as Mr. Naperville who - surprise, surprise - IMd me at about 4:30 this afternoon) is looking better by the moment.
SIKE. Nothing can make a winking emoticon look like anything other than a tiny yellow romance-killer. Not even a cyber-dry spell.
Speaking of Mr. Emoticon, thanks for the few words of advice.
Especially you, El.
Especially you.
I need a beer and a taquito. See you people tomorrow.
I feel cyberjected. Mr. Emoticon (the artist formerly known as Mr. Naperville who - surprise, surprise - IMd me at about 4:30 this afternoon) is looking better by the moment.
SIKE. Nothing can make a winking emoticon look like anything other than a tiny yellow romance-killer. Not even a cyber-dry spell.
Speaking of Mr. Emoticon, thanks for the few words of advice.
Especially you, El.
Especially you.
I need a beer and a taquito. See you people tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Day 8
Alright kids, I need your help. And not just from all two of you who actually post comments on this beast - I need ALL of your help. Especially the fellas. Here's the situation:
Mr. Naperville? AKA Mr. Emoticon-hehe-creapy-awful-grammar-guy? He keeps IMing me. We're talking alllllll the live-long day with the hey-there's and the when-you're-around-and-have-some-time-let's-chat-some-more's and the blah-blah-winking-face's. Not interested, Mr. Naperville. But how do I tell him that? I thought that just ignoring him/immediately stopping whatever I'm doing on the computer as soon as he IMs me so that it looks like I've just stepped away from the computer the second he IMd me would do the trick (it worked on me SEVERAL times in college...waaa waaa) but he will NOT. GIVE. IN. I've now had 2 people tell me to just tell him I met someone else who I think I have a future with, but that could not be further from the truth. I mean, sure, I've met a man I can joust with and a man with more tattoos than words in his vocabulary, but...come on. I feel bad lying, but the truth (which is, for the record, that he is an IDIOT and/or a 14 year-old girl posing as a 28 year-old dude) is way harsh. So how do I do this? How do I cyber-reject someone?
Any and all feedback, even from you randos that are reading this blog because my college friends are forcing you, would be much appreciated.
Okay, good talk. See you guys out there.
Mr. Naperville? AKA Mr. Emoticon-hehe-creapy-awful-grammar-guy? He keeps IMing me. We're talking alllllll the live-long day with the hey-there's and the when-you're-around-and-have-some-time-let's-chat-some-more's and the blah-blah-winking-face's. Not interested, Mr. Naperville. But how do I tell him that? I thought that just ignoring him/immediately stopping whatever I'm doing on the computer as soon as he IMs me so that it looks like I've just stepped away from the computer the second he IMd me would do the trick (it worked on me SEVERAL times in college...waaa waaa) but he will NOT. GIVE. IN. I've now had 2 people tell me to just tell him I met someone else who I think I have a future with, but that could not be further from the truth. I mean, sure, I've met a man I can joust with and a man with more tattoos than words in his vocabulary, but...come on. I feel bad lying, but the truth (which is, for the record, that he is an IDIOT and/or a 14 year-old girl posing as a 28 year-old dude) is way harsh. So how do I do this? How do I cyber-reject someone?
Any and all feedback, even from you randos that are reading this blog because my college friends are forcing you, would be much appreciated.
Okay, good talk. See you guys out there.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Day 7
Oh my goodness! My week anniversary! And how did I celebrate it? With a GENERIC MATCH.COM MESSAGE. Oh chicagohunk21 (seriously, with that screenname? Seriously?) with your child and baby mama drama...could you really not have taken the extra 46 seconds to personalize your message/wink combo instead of just blatantly mass-winking the entire female match.com population between the ages of 20 and 24? Did you even look to see if we were compatible? Let me answer that for you. No, you didn't. How do I know? Let me count the ways:
1) You have a child. I mean, ain't no shame in that game, but I specifically said that I'm not looking for someone with children. For God's sake, the creepy 49 year old didn't have children! I understand that you are, apparently, a hunk, but please. Keep it in your pants.
2) You are 22. I (again) specifically said I was looking for guys between the ages of 23-30. Now, clearly the men of match.com don't pay all that much attention to my preferred age range (I'll point to exhibits "Day 5" and...well just Day 5 because Day 6 was totally my fault...and a little bit the green beer's fault. Thanks to Lesli for pointing that out.) But still...at least READ my profile before mass-winking me.
3) You didn't graduate from college. Again, ain't no shame in that game, but yet again, I specifically said I wanted someone with at least a bachelor's degree.
4) Ok I didn't mention this in my profile, but I HATE SEINFELD. HATE IT. And you love it. So that's out.
Now, you might be wondering how I know he mass-messaged me. Well, let me tell you a little something about myself. I do my fair share of mass-messaging in my life...that's right, a whoooole lotta mail merging coming out of this girl. And if there's one thing I know, it's what a mass message looks like. And it looks like your message. And here's the clincher - He mentions my "short profile." Guess what kids? Never in my life have I been accused of being short...or at least in the sense that I am the most long-winded person on the planet. I mean, scroll down a bit. Note how long each of these posts are. That's right, they're looooong. And so is my profile. In fact, you have seen my profile. You know that it's like 1,000 words long. And he thinks that this so-called "short profile" makes me sound "sweet, smart, and compassionate." Really? Really chicagohunk21? Smart? Okay, yeah maybe in the sense that it's smart-ASS. Sweet? Sure, okay why not, though I don't really see what's sweet about Jack Black and video games. Compassionate? Not even a little bit, unless he mistook that whole land/sea mammal thing for an actual interest in animals/the environment because in that case he CLEARLY doesn't know me at all. I mean, I'm the girl that drives the bagel place that is literally - absolutely no exaggeration here - a stone's throw from my office building. And I throw like a girl, too.
I'm just saying.
1) You have a child. I mean, ain't no shame in that game, but I specifically said that I'm not looking for someone with children. For God's sake, the creepy 49 year old didn't have children! I understand that you are, apparently, a hunk, but please. Keep it in your pants.
2) You are 22. I (again) specifically said I was looking for guys between the ages of 23-30. Now, clearly the men of match.com don't pay all that much attention to my preferred age range (I'll point to exhibits "Day 5" and...well just Day 5 because Day 6 was totally my fault...and a little bit the green beer's fault. Thanks to Lesli for pointing that out.) But still...at least READ my profile before mass-winking me.
3) You didn't graduate from college. Again, ain't no shame in that game, but yet again, I specifically said I wanted someone with at least a bachelor's degree.
4) Ok I didn't mention this in my profile, but I HATE SEINFELD. HATE IT. And you love it. So that's out.
Now, you might be wondering how I know he mass-messaged me. Well, let me tell you a little something about myself. I do my fair share of mass-messaging in my life...that's right, a whoooole lotta mail merging coming out of this girl. And if there's one thing I know, it's what a mass message looks like. And it looks like your message. And here's the clincher - He mentions my "short profile." Guess what kids? Never in my life have I been accused of being short...or at least in the sense that I am the most long-winded person on the planet. I mean, scroll down a bit. Note how long each of these posts are. That's right, they're looooong. And so is my profile. In fact, you have seen my profile. You know that it's like 1,000 words long. And he thinks that this so-called "short profile" makes me sound "sweet, smart, and compassionate." Really? Really chicagohunk21? Smart? Okay, yeah maybe in the sense that it's smart-ASS. Sweet? Sure, okay why not, though I don't really see what's sweet about Jack Black and video games. Compassionate? Not even a little bit, unless he mistook that whole land/sea mammal thing for an actual interest in animals/the environment because in that case he CLEARLY doesn't know me at all. I mean, I'm the girl that drives the bagel place that is literally - absolutely no exaggeration here - a stone's throw from my office building. And I throw like a girl, too.
I'm just saying.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Day 6
Note to self: Never again, under any circumstances, drink and wink.
Seriously. Never. Again.
Note to the guy who returned my wink at 8:17 this morning: Happy St. Patrick's Day, 36-year-old-with-2-children. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Seriously. Never. Again.
Note to the guy who returned my wink at 8:17 this morning: Happy St. Patrick's Day, 36-year-old-with-2-children. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Day 5
Dear 37 year-old man that winked at me at 9:09 am this morning:
If our age difference was a girl, there's a good chance she would be having sex by now. She would be taking driver's ed and fighting with her mother in the dressing room at Abercrombie about how short is too short when it comes to skirts. She would argue that as long as it almost covers both ass cheeks, we're good to go, and the cologne-soaked, puka-shell wearing sales assistant stationed outside not to help people find things but instead to simply look hot and ask asinine questions like "Are you ready for spring break?" as people walk in would agree with her. Her mom would then probably (a) realize that when her daughter had said she needed to go on the pill because her cramps were so bad they were making her vomit, she was probably lying and (b) start crying in public. This would embarrass our age difference and both of them would stomp out of the mall in a huff and drive home in complete silence with only the soothing drone of NPR slicing through the dead quiet.
If our age difference were a guy, he would still have braces and horrible acne, and yet will still have managed to cop a feel on the girl version of our age difference.
Think about it. And never wink at me again.
If our age difference was a girl, there's a good chance she would be having sex by now. She would be taking driver's ed and fighting with her mother in the dressing room at Abercrombie about how short is too short when it comes to skirts. She would argue that as long as it almost covers both ass cheeks, we're good to go, and the cologne-soaked, puka-shell wearing sales assistant stationed outside not to help people find things but instead to simply look hot and ask asinine questions like "Are you ready for spring break?" as people walk in would agree with her. Her mom would then probably (a) realize that when her daughter had said she needed to go on the pill because her cramps were so bad they were making her vomit, she was probably lying and (b) start crying in public. This would embarrass our age difference and both of them would stomp out of the mall in a huff and drive home in complete silence with only the soothing drone of NPR slicing through the dead quiet.
If our age difference were a guy, he would still have braces and horrible acne, and yet will still have managed to cop a feel on the girl version of our age difference.
Think about it. And never wink at me again.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Day 4
Well, my counter hit the double digits day and I have to say, I am THRILLED. Finally, I have some people to bounce this crap off of - I can't keep shooting my screen name out in to the ether without someone to remind me that the cyber world is one big emoticon. (Mr. Naperville, case in point.)
Since the only wink I got today lives in "Pontiac" (the city in Illinois and not the car...I really, really hope. Though that might explain his willingness to travel up to 75 miles to meet his mate...that, or just sheer desperation. Either way, not going to happen) I thought I would take a moment to explain, once and for all, why I decided to undertake this massively embarrassing (mis)adventure.
1) Of the few friends I have out here, every single one of them is either married, engaged, or has been dating someone for legit decades, and while that's fine for my friends, it doesn't leave a lot for Single Sarah over here.
2) If nothing else, I'm hoping to meet some people to just hang out with. My circle of friends out here is a small one (shocking, I know) and it would be nice to have some new peeps to kick it with. (Yup, I said "kick it." Deal with it.)
3) I'm going to share something with all of you that I only share with people I really, really trust. (You know, like my lover. Or your mom. Ooooooh SNAP.) I SUCK at dating. Granted, I haven't had much experience (we'll call that reason #4) but from what experience I have had, I know this much is true - I legitimately blow at dating. The last date I went on? (A) was over 2 years ago. (B) I had to drive over 5 hours for (it should have been 2 1/2 but I got lost and was too embarrassed to ask for directions...waaa waaa.) (C) I STOLE A BRASS FIGURINE OF A PRANCING HORSE. That's right, you heard me. I committed a CRIME on the last date I went on. I don't even know why I did it. I think we were joking about it (Pop quiz: how do you know when you have run out of things to talk about on a date? Answer: You start talking about stealing the surrounding decor.) And then suddenly I had stuffed it in my purse and we were trying to look inconspicuous as we awkwardly tried to hide my now-gigantic purse between our bodies.
Needless to say, I need some practice. And somewhere to display my kickass brass figurine.
Since the only wink I got today lives in "Pontiac" (the city in Illinois and not the car...I really, really hope. Though that might explain his willingness to travel up to 75 miles to meet his mate...that, or just sheer desperation. Either way, not going to happen) I thought I would take a moment to explain, once and for all, why I decided to undertake this massively embarrassing (mis)adventure.
1) Of the few friends I have out here, every single one of them is either married, engaged, or has been dating someone for legit decades, and while that's fine for my friends, it doesn't leave a lot for Single Sarah over here.
2) If nothing else, I'm hoping to meet some people to just hang out with. My circle of friends out here is a small one (shocking, I know) and it would be nice to have some new peeps to kick it with. (Yup, I said "kick it." Deal with it.)
3) I'm going to share something with all of you that I only share with people I really, really trust. (You know, like my lover. Or your mom. Ooooooh SNAP.) I SUCK at dating. Granted, I haven't had much experience (we'll call that reason #4) but from what experience I have had, I know this much is true - I legitimately blow at dating. The last date I went on? (A) was over 2 years ago. (B) I had to drive over 5 hours for (it should have been 2 1/2 but I got lost and was too embarrassed to ask for directions...waaa waaa.) (C) I STOLE A BRASS FIGURINE OF A PRANCING HORSE. That's right, you heard me. I committed a CRIME on the last date I went on. I don't even know why I did it. I think we were joking about it (Pop quiz: how do you know when you have run out of things to talk about on a date? Answer: You start talking about stealing the surrounding decor.) And then suddenly I had stuffed it in my purse and we were trying to look inconspicuous as we awkwardly tried to hide my now-gigantic purse between our bodies.
Needless to say, I need some practice. And somewhere to display my kickass brass figurine.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Day 3, 8:55 pm
Well, since none of you bastards are reading this or providing any feedback whatsoever, I'll have you know that I took the plunge with Mr. Naperville (that's what I'm going to call the one guy that I've met so far who is passable profile- and looks-wise, because he lives in Naperville. Pretty basic really.) I sent him an email with my screen name and not 10 minutes later, BLIIING (that's my blog version of the incoming IM song. Whatever, deal with it.) It was Mr. Naperville. And the VERY FIRST IM he has sent me?
iceNIU XXXX: Well i just got your email from Match, so i thought i would send you a quick hello :-)
Obviously he did not read my match.com profile after reading my match.com email, because if he had he would have been reminded of the fact that the thing I hate most in online communication is the GOD DAMN EMOTICONS.
I mean, this guy is 27 years old, and over the course of the conversation managed to use the :-) face 6 times, "lol" twice and 3 "hehe's." He also used "your" instead of "you're" thrice times and when he typed "cheaky" instead of "creepy" he corrected himself but spelled it "creapy." If I didn't know better I'd say a 14 year old girl was trying to scam on me.
Is it wrong to write this guy off for nothing more than piss poor written communication skills?
UPDATE: He just used the winking emoticon. I don't care what you people say (which, clearly, is going to be nothing.) This kid is DONE-ZO.
iceNIU XXXX: Well i just got your email from Match, so i thought i would send you a quick hello :-)
Obviously he did not read my match.com profile after reading my match.com email, because if he had he would have been reminded of the fact that the thing I hate most in online communication is the GOD DAMN EMOTICONS.
I mean, this guy is 27 years old, and over the course of the conversation managed to use the :-) face 6 times, "lol" twice and 3 "hehe's." He also used "your" instead of "you're" thrice times and when he typed "cheaky" instead of "creepy" he corrected himself but spelled it "creapy." If I didn't know better I'd say a 14 year old girl was trying to scam on me.
Is it wrong to write this guy off for nothing more than piss poor written communication skills?
UPDATE: He just used the winking emoticon. I don't care what you people say (which, clearly, is going to be nothing.) This kid is DONE-ZO.
Day 3, P.M.
Well forget match.com - Obviously I should have known that all I need to do to meet Mr. Right is walk to my local grocery store about a mile down the (very busy) road that runs outside my apartment complex - I got 3 honks, 1 truck honk (which nearly startled me in to the middle of the road...good one, sir) and 1 '93 Windstar that actually PULLED OVER and asked if "that California Pizza Kitchen thin crust was for 1...(long, looooong pause) or 2." I giggled out of sheer embarrassment for him and then legit HIGH TAILED it to my apartment - and if you didn't know, the last time I "high tailed it" anywhere was to the sundae bar at Thorne on a Wednesday night sophomore year for a bowlful of that crack-laced whipped cream.
But I digress.
So, a fun new lesson was learned today in my on-going internet dating education. Apparently, step 3, after the initial wink and the subsequent message, is to chat via AIM. I've now had 2 guys suggest this method of conversation, which we all know I am KICKASS at. Except, here's the thing - My AIM screen name is from my junior year of high school and, umm...it's awkward. Like, REAL awkward. And not awkward in the my-screen-name-is-a-blend-of-my-first-pet's-name-and-my-favorite-My-Little-Pony way, but in the my-screen-name-sounds-like-I-can-pay-for-a-Birkin-bag-entirely-in-singles-because-I-work-nights-at-the-Pussycat-Club-near-the-airport way. So what's a girl to do? IM her future cuddle buddy from a screen name that makes her sound like she should be doing 3-5 in a minimum security prison for solicitation? Or be REALLY tragic and create a screen name solely for the purpose of instant messaging some dude who, no matter where things end up, I will always have to introduce as "you know, the guy I met online?"
I invite and welcome your input. Both of you, if my visitor counter is correct.
But I digress.
So, a fun new lesson was learned today in my on-going internet dating education. Apparently, step 3, after the initial wink and the subsequent message, is to chat via AIM. I've now had 2 guys suggest this method of conversation, which we all know I am KICKASS at. Except, here's the thing - My AIM screen name is from my junior year of high school and, umm...it's awkward. Like, REAL awkward. And not awkward in the my-screen-name-is-a-blend-of-my-first-pet's-name-and-my-favorite-My-Little-Pony way, but in the my-screen-name-sounds-like-I-can-pay-for-a-Birkin-bag-entirely-in-singles-because-I-work-nights-at-the-Pussycat-Club-near-the-airport way. So what's a girl to do? IM her future cuddle buddy from a screen name that makes her sound like she should be doing 3-5 in a minimum security prison for solicitation? Or be REALLY tragic and create a screen name solely for the purpose of instant messaging some dude who, no matter where things end up, I will always have to introduce as "you know, the guy I met online?"
I invite and welcome your input. Both of you, if my visitor counter is correct.
Day 3, 10:25 A.M.
Sweet mother, this could not wait. Simply COULD. NOT. WAIT. I'll get back to the guy I emailed later, but for now we need to discuss the guy who just winked at me - You see, whenever you get a "wink" you are sent an email informing you of this fact, an email which includes a picture (thank GOD) of whoever has decided that you are cute enough - or in my case, have a weird enough profile - to wink at. From there you're just a short click away from your husband-to-be's profile, and in a move that I think is extremely fair of me, I have never once simply looked the picture and written the poor guy off. I mean, who am I to judge?
So anyway, this guy winks at me, he's not really my type but, in keeping with my vow to not be THAT shallow, I head over to his profile. Oh. Sweet. Jesus. What does he do for fun? "Jousting and swordfighting." WHAT? Ok, weird but still reading...His occupation? "medieval times dinner and tournament ." AHHHHH. I can't even make fun of this - The joke writes itself. The guy is one of the knights that jousts for the crowd whilst the serving wenches throw chicken drumsticks and mulled mead at the crowd. I wonder how many times he has beaten the Black Knight and saved the princess or whatever. Do you think he's a big fan of D&D? What level Dungeon Master do you think he is? Wasn't there an MTV True Life about this? I am considering sending him a message just so I can get my questions answered. It's not every day you cyber-meet a fake knight.
So anyway, this guy winks at me, he's not really my type but, in keeping with my vow to not be THAT shallow, I head over to his profile. Oh. Sweet. Jesus. What does he do for fun? "Jousting and swordfighting." WHAT? Ok, weird but still reading...His occupation? "medieval times dinner and tournament ." AHHHHH. I can't even make fun of this - The joke writes itself. The guy is one of the knights that jousts for the crowd whilst the serving wenches throw chicken drumsticks and mulled mead at the crowd. I wonder how many times he has beaten the Black Knight and saved the princess or whatever. Do you think he's a big fan of D&D? What level Dungeon Master do you think he is? Wasn't there an MTV True Life about this? I am considering sending him a message just so I can get my questions answered. It's not every day you cyber-meet a fake knight.
Day 3, A.M.
I DID end up emailing the guy who winked back. My subject line was "stop being so coy" and then I told him that I dug the fact that he liked Family Guy. I mean, what else am I supposed to say? His profile, unlike mine, is not exactly rife with talking points. And speaking of which, I feel like I should post my profile essay here so that you all have a sense of just how utterly whacked-out I find this whole situation to be, and also what I'm expecting from my potential cybermate. I mean, if you're not going to tell me upfront what your favorite water-based mammal is, what hope is there for our future?
I like to sleep with a fan on, even in the dead of winter. My favorite meal is breakfast and my favorite restaurant is any establishment that serves breakfast 24 hours a day. I love dogs and I hate cats. My favorite land-based mammal is a toss-up between the elephant and the polar bear. My favorite water-based mammal is without question the seal. Or the sea otter. Or the penguin. My parents are my best friends, followed closely by my babysitter, who (don’t worry) has not babysat me for about 7 years (5 years if we count the times my parents went out of town and wouldn't leave me alone in the house overnight because they “trusted me but not my friends.” Right. They were totally right though. I tried to have a party anyway and my babysitter blatantly busted us. Anyway.) I hate the dentist. I love Caddyshack. I love to bake. The old man on the Six Flags commercials really freaks me out, as do all PG-13 scary movies, i.e. The Others or The Mothman Prophesies. If I had a chance to make out with the guy that plays PC on the iMac commercials I absolutely would and in no way does that make me easy. I love to read. My favorite imported beer is Stella Artois. My favorite domestic is Bud Light. My favorite non-beer is champagne. I hate watching people make out on TV. I love water - swimming in it, boating on it...drinking it. I often like to express myself through the art of dance, mostly to songs like "The Right Stuff" by NKOTB or "Baby Baby" by Amy Grant. Or sometimes "Juicy" by Notorious B.I.G. Depends on my mood. I secretly love The Real Housewives of Orange County and I openly love Top Chef. I think Jack Black is awesome.
My perfect match is absolutely hilarious. He is smart and would be okay with – and good at – teaching me how to play video games. He is the kind of person who practices his golf swing in his living room while watching the Masters but doesn't actually play golf. He does, however, bowl. He is outgoing and charming and will have a separate life that I know about but don't need to be a part of. He will challenge me, and not only with his sick, circa-1996-when-boy-bands-were-coming-out-of-Orlando-faster-than-you-can-say-Britney-put-down-the-electric-razor dance moves. He will buy dinner and I will buy the drinks afterwards. Or vice versa. He is driven and hard working, but not on a Sunday morning. Or a Sunday afternoon for that matter. He secretly thinks Dashboard Confessional is kind of awesome in a sad, rainy day kind of way. He can fix things like my toilet that flushes roughly 12 times for every 1 time I push down the handle. He likes his parents. He likes to watch movies but will sometimes make me watch something other than Orange County or Waiting for Guffman. He is, generally speaking, awesome. He doesn't use emoticons or excessive exclamation points in emails. He has been to Europe and would love to go back. Coincidentally enough, he thinks I’m pretty awesome, too.
I apologize to those of you who have already read this, but I was informed this morning that first entry was so deliciously evil that my blog address might be passed along to some relative acquaintances, as opposed to the 6 of you who know when I lick a stamp or change the channel because I probably call you and tell you about it. For like 20 minutes. You are welcome.
So, I got way off topic and I actually do need to do something worthwhile, so hold your breath and I'll be back later to tell you allll about what Mr. Family Guy wrote back. It's super exciting.
SIKE.
I like to sleep with a fan on, even in the dead of winter. My favorite meal is breakfast and my favorite restaurant is any establishment that serves breakfast 24 hours a day. I love dogs and I hate cats. My favorite land-based mammal is a toss-up between the elephant and the polar bear. My favorite water-based mammal is without question the seal. Or the sea otter. Or the penguin. My parents are my best friends, followed closely by my babysitter, who (don’t worry) has not babysat me for about 7 years (5 years if we count the times my parents went out of town and wouldn't leave me alone in the house overnight because they “trusted me but not my friends.” Right. They were totally right though. I tried to have a party anyway and my babysitter blatantly busted us. Anyway.) I hate the dentist. I love Caddyshack. I love to bake. The old man on the Six Flags commercials really freaks me out, as do all PG-13 scary movies, i.e. The Others or The Mothman Prophesies. If I had a chance to make out with the guy that plays PC on the iMac commercials I absolutely would and in no way does that make me easy. I love to read. My favorite imported beer is Stella Artois. My favorite domestic is Bud Light. My favorite non-beer is champagne. I hate watching people make out on TV. I love water - swimming in it, boating on it...drinking it. I often like to express myself through the art of dance, mostly to songs like "The Right Stuff" by NKOTB or "Baby Baby" by Amy Grant. Or sometimes "Juicy" by Notorious B.I.G. Depends on my mood. I secretly love The Real Housewives of Orange County and I openly love Top Chef. I think Jack Black is awesome.
My perfect match is absolutely hilarious. He is smart and would be okay with – and good at – teaching me how to play video games. He is the kind of person who practices his golf swing in his living room while watching the Masters but doesn't actually play golf. He does, however, bowl. He is outgoing and charming and will have a separate life that I know about but don't need to be a part of. He will challenge me, and not only with his sick, circa-1996-when-boy-bands-were-coming-out-of-Orlando-faster-than-you-can-say-Britney-put-down-the-electric-razor dance moves. He will buy dinner and I will buy the drinks afterwards. Or vice versa. He is driven and hard working, but not on a Sunday morning. Or a Sunday afternoon for that matter. He secretly thinks Dashboard Confessional is kind of awesome in a sad, rainy day kind of way. He can fix things like my toilet that flushes roughly 12 times for every 1 time I push down the handle. He likes his parents. He likes to watch movies but will sometimes make me watch something other than Orange County or Waiting for Guffman. He is, generally speaking, awesome. He doesn't use emoticons or excessive exclamation points in emails. He has been to Europe and would love to go back. Coincidentally enough, he thinks I’m pretty awesome, too.
I apologize to those of you who have already read this, but I was informed this morning that first entry was so deliciously evil that my blog address might be passed along to some relative acquaintances, as opposed to the 6 of you who know when I lick a stamp or change the channel because I probably call you and tell you about it. For like 20 minutes. You are welcome.
So, I got way off topic and I actually do need to do something worthwhile, so hold your breath and I'll be back later to tell you allll about what Mr. Family Guy wrote back. It's super exciting.
SIKE.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Day 2
I would have posted on Day 1, but the excitement was just too much. I mean, between picking out attractive pictures that conform to match.com's ridiculous standards (no see-thru clothes? Who do you think I am? Someone who actually owns clothes that are not see-thru? Guess that onesie made out of pantyhose material is out. Shoot.) and editing my 3,000+ character personal essay, I was overwhelmed by the sheer possibility of it all. How many winks would I get? (So far? 3.) Would I get them immediately or would I have to wait? (I would have to wait...but only like 4 hours. Some sad sap messaged me at like 4 in the morning...buddy, 4 in the morning SCREAMS lonely and tragic, not optimistic and looking for love. Think about it.) Would the guys that I winked only after screaming like a school girl wink me back? (One would, and of course it was the one who, prior to screaming like a school girl/clicking on the "wink for free" icon, I actually had a sober moment and thought...hmm. Maaaybe not so much. But apparently that's the level I should shoot for, since the chubby football player-type I winked (weird) was not feeling me. Or maybe it was the picture I posted of me with my face in a vat of frozen cosmos he wasn't feeling. The world may never know.)
So, 24 hours later, here I am, 6 pictures uploaded, 5 guys have contacted me, 4 guys have sent me messages and nobody fits my most important qualification - Not one of them has made me laugh out loud...or even on the inside either (The notable exception being the guy who I'm pretty sure sent me his senior picture...from high school. And in that case I was most definitely not laughing WITH him, an important distinction.) However, I'm reasonably certain every single one of them meets my "willing to teach me how to play video games" qualification - you know, on the console in their parents' basement. Because 3 of the 5 still live at home. With their parents. And probably some siblings. And perhaps the family pet. And nothing says "not tonight sweatheart" more than the 12 year old yellow lab with a goiter the size of a baseball growing out of his shoulder trying to lick your face while you're trying to master those wireless - and dangerous, from what I hear in various fluff pieces on the 10:00 news - Wii controllers. Nothing, I tell you.
And then there was the wink I got at about 5:15 pm this evening, from a guy whose match.com moniker includes the word "psycho." I wish I were making this up, but I'm not. This guy actually sat down after making the life-altering decision to put himself out there on match.com and, when faced with the arduous task of picking out a screenname, immediately thought "psycho! THAT will send winks-a-million my way!" So obviously I immediately wrote him off, though quite frankly if he's stupid enough to pick a word like "psycho" as his descriptor, he's probably not smart enough to cause any real damage. Any yet, I was still intrigued. So I decided to check out his profile. I'm going to go ahead and cut and paste a few choice lines from his essay because (a) I'm a bitch and (b) the only people reading this are never, under any circumstances, going to be this "psycho" character - I'm basically banking on the tree falling in the forest theory...except by "no one hearing it fall" I mean no one hearing it that is this guy from match.com. Right. Anyway. On with the show.
"I'm looking for someone who is thier-self and not something they're not." Oooooh. Good point.
"My friends define me as the funny yet weird guy that does or says something funny and weird." So he is funny yet weird and does things that are funny AND weird. Crucial difference, glad he clarified.
"I'm open-minded like to do anything 1 or 5 times, then say I don't like this." I don't even understand what that means.
"I have 2 full tattoo sleeves, 6 piercings, so you would have to have a found love for 'em as well." No, he is not kidding. Both arms, MAD tats. I guess that black figure 8 knot on my back has doomed me to borderline illiterate guys who rock head-to-toe black pleather in one of their pictures. Again, not kidding.
Alright that's enough. I actually felt God glaring at me there for a minute.
UPDATE: A guy that I winked about about 6:30 just winked back mere MINUTES later. Now the ball is back in my court...to email or not to email.
I leave you on that incredibly suspenseful note. Try not to pee your pants.
So, 24 hours later, here I am, 6 pictures uploaded, 5 guys have contacted me, 4 guys have sent me messages and nobody fits my most important qualification - Not one of them has made me laugh out loud...or even on the inside either (The notable exception being the guy who I'm pretty sure sent me his senior picture...from high school. And in that case I was most definitely not laughing WITH him, an important distinction.) However, I'm reasonably certain every single one of them meets my "willing to teach me how to play video games" qualification - you know, on the console in their parents' basement. Because 3 of the 5 still live at home. With their parents. And probably some siblings. And perhaps the family pet. And nothing says "not tonight sweatheart" more than the 12 year old yellow lab with a goiter the size of a baseball growing out of his shoulder trying to lick your face while you're trying to master those wireless - and dangerous, from what I hear in various fluff pieces on the 10:00 news - Wii controllers. Nothing, I tell you.
And then there was the wink I got at about 5:15 pm this evening, from a guy whose match.com moniker includes the word "psycho." I wish I were making this up, but I'm not. This guy actually sat down after making the life-altering decision to put himself out there on match.com and, when faced with the arduous task of picking out a screenname, immediately thought "psycho! THAT will send winks-a-million my way!" So obviously I immediately wrote him off, though quite frankly if he's stupid enough to pick a word like "psycho" as his descriptor, he's probably not smart enough to cause any real damage. Any yet, I was still intrigued. So I decided to check out his profile. I'm going to go ahead and cut and paste a few choice lines from his essay because (a) I'm a bitch and (b) the only people reading this are never, under any circumstances, going to be this "psycho" character - I'm basically banking on the tree falling in the forest theory...except by "no one hearing it fall" I mean no one hearing it that is this guy from match.com. Right. Anyway. On with the show.
"I'm looking for someone who is thier-self and not something they're not." Oooooh. Good point.
"My friends define me as the funny yet weird guy that does or says something funny and weird." So he is funny yet weird and does things that are funny AND weird. Crucial difference, glad he clarified.
"I'm open-minded like to do anything 1 or 5 times, then say I don't like this." I don't even understand what that means.
"I have 2 full tattoo sleeves, 6 piercings, so you would have to have a found love for 'em as well." No, he is not kidding. Both arms, MAD tats. I guess that black figure 8 knot on my back has doomed me to borderline illiterate guys who rock head-to-toe black pleather in one of their pictures. Again, not kidding.
Alright that's enough. I actually felt God glaring at me there for a minute.
UPDATE: A guy that I winked about about 6:30 just winked back mere MINUTES later. Now the ball is back in my court...to email or not to email.
I leave you on that incredibly suspenseful note. Try not to pee your pants.
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