Guess I'll Go Eat Worms.

So here we are, not even two weeks into the great eHarmony eXperiment (Volume 2), and it's already going downhill fast.  So far, out of over 40 matches, four have tried to communicate with me.  Bachelor #1 listed his profession as "transportation." Translation: bus driver.  In response to "Describe one thing only your closest friends know about you" he answered, "I once drove 4 hours through a hailstorm just to have dinner with a girl, then drove all the way home the same night."  Translation: STALKER.  WrEEEE!  WrEEEE! WrEEE! (that would be what happens when one tries to type out the theme music from Psycho.  Oddly, spellcheck doesn't seem to recognize onomatopoeic representations of screeching violins.  Or the word "spellcheck" for that matter.).  So that request went unanswered.  Bachelor #2 seemed reasonably attractive and interesting...but I have been "Waiting on his Answers" for, oh, about a week now.  Something tells me that at this point, I'll be waiting forever.

 

Then, there's Bachelor #3.  There's nothing about him that really stands out to me on his profile, but it is kind of refreshing to see someone from the business world whose "last book" ISN'T Who Moved My Cheese?, The Art of the Deal, or some other book written by a businessman about how you, too, can be a better businessperson and bring in more business and get all up in my business...no wait, that last one is really more about bidness than business.  I don't have a problem with people reading those sorts of books because they love what they do and want to be better at it, but most of my matches list their profession as something involving one or more of the following words: "financial" "trader" "commodities" "broker" "investment" or "accounting." THEN they proceed to list "business" as the thing they are most passionate about.  THEN they list this sort of book.  Jesus...one-dimensional much?  I mean, I don't expect a limited profile to express every nuance of your character, but you should at least be...planar.

So at least #3 stood out in that respect.  And I've tried to keep an open mind about communicating with anyone who asks and isn't a total troll, so we go through the bullshit "guided communication " process and make our way to "open communication" in a few days' time.  His first message to me is disarmingly smartassy and makes me laugh aloud - he has now officially piqued my interest, because most people won't do that right off the bat.  I ignore the fact that he inserts lols into his messages (a habit I ABHOR - the only time I think it's acceptable to use an LOL is on instant messenger, when I am trying to let someone know they have actually made me laugh out loud) and am enjoying a friendly banter, being my smartass self because clearly, he gets that.

I spent the last two days waiting for a response to my last message.  When it came today, it read as follows:
Beth,
This was definitely the answerI was expecting. It sounds like you are very angry with a little playful talk through email of all things. I just don't have time for that.
Good luck in your search.

He also closed the match, which means he has permanently cut off communication with me.

Um...Exsqueeze me?  Abakingpowder?  Angry?  I wasn't angry in the slightest.  Sarcastic?  Sure.  Honest?  Absolutely.  But I was in a good mood when I wrote him - I was basking in the glow of steak and fresh local produce and a couple of glasses of wine that turned out to be damned good for being under $10 and soft-baked chocolate chip cookies!  Where did this "angry" impression come from?

Now, in the interest of fairness, I went back and re-read my message in an effort to figure out why he took it that way, because I was genuinely puzzled.  And, to be fair, I can see how, taken entirely out of the context of my personality, it could have sounded VERY angry.  Unfortunately, I was laboring under the misapprehension that this guy got my sass, and had dispensed with my usual habit of punctuating sentences with smileys to convey the smirk behind the snark.  I did this consciously, because I imagine many people find the excessive use of smileys to be every bit as irritating as I find the excessive use of LOLs, so I tried to keep myself to one or two per message.  Big mistake.

So at this point, I understand why he thinks I'm kind of a bitch, and willing to chalk it all up to a misunderstanding. 

Until I re-read that "this was definitely the answer I was expecting" part.

Okay, I wasn't angry before, but I SURE AS FUCK AM NOW, ASSHOLE.

I communicated with you, even though deep down I thought you were a tool for any and all of the following:

a) Including a picture of yourself dangling from a rock.  Yeah, I get it, you're eXtreme.

2) Mentioning that you love to cook.  EVERY guy does this.  It's the ultimate online-dating cliche: guys who "love to cook" and girls who "love football" because they think it's the thing the opposite sex wants to hear.  (Those who mention playing guitar are even more lame, but I find this gets less common the further removed from your college years you are.  Most men my age no longer bother unless they actually get PAID to play guitar.)

iii) Being an English major who can't spell.  Or use spellcheck, apparently.

4) Whatevs.

e) Copping out on two of the profile questions.  Even I had the decency to come up with SOME bullshit for all of them.  For example:

"What is the ONE thing that people DON'T notice about you right away that you WISH they WOULD?"

You'd never know it, but I'm smokin' hot under the glasses and the labcoat - like a girl in a Freddie Prinze, Jr. movie.  But shorter.

"Is there any additional information you would like your matches to know about you?"

I am happiest when I am at my most ridiculous, and I sometimes get bored late at night and edit my eHarmony profile because I get tired of my main page nagging me that my "About Me" is incomplete because I haven't provided any additional information in this space.  I also sometimes enjoy run-on sentences.

vi) Sending me a stupid icebreaker before your first set of questions.  The icebreakers are for people who don't want to buy a membership that will allow them to actually send real communication, you hoser.  Grow some balls.

7) The aforementioned LOLs.  Seriously.  So fucking annoying.

 

So...not even two weeks in, and I've already had my feelings hurt by a complete stranger.

 

There is no Bachelor #4.  But there is another guy, who wants to communicate with me.  When I looked at his photos, my unfiltered response was, "he's cute.  But dear GOD does he have a bad haircut." 

One of the more recent eHarmony newsletters gave some tips on dating people you meet online.  Things like meeting for the first time in a public place... telling a friend where you'll be...avoid bus drivers and hailstorms... etc.  And their #1 rule is: Trust your Gut. 

So here we go...my Heart says, "These losers can go to hell.  But...I desperately need to go on a date.  There might still be a good one in there somewhere.  You should remain optimistic."

My Head says, "Hey, we made a deal that you would at least try to get to open communication with anyone that asked, because you never know what will happen face-to-face."

And my Smart Ass is saying, "His grandma cuts his hair with a Flowbie and/or SuckCut.  He loves cats.  He is 'neither religious nor spiritual.'  He has included a photo of himself SKYDIVING.  Number of times he mentions LOVING TO COOK: 3.  Number of times he mentions PLAYING GUITAR: 2.  Even though he listed his profession, you still have NO IDEA WHAT HE DOES FOR A LIVING.  Oh, and I swear there's a look in his eyes that says, 'I already have your panties, so how's about a drink sometime?'"

 

Clearly, my body parts are at war with one another.  So, I ask you, loyal readers...which one of these best approximates my Gut, and is therefore trustworthy?

Owner of a Lone eHeart

So...my life is currently boring me to tears.  Spending a little quality time with the men in my life over the last couple of weeks has made me realize that I'm just not getting out enough (as opposed to just not getting enough.  Which would also be true.).  I've been feeling frustrated, and lonely, and just generally disgusted with myself.  And, as much as I've enjoyed my evenings across a table from these lovely men, I feel as though I have earned the right to spend one with someone new.  I deserve a date, dammit - it has been too long.  I mean, even a bad date would be a refreshing change of pace, and would give me something to write about to boot.

 

Of course, contrary to popular belief, it's kind of hard to find someone to take me on a date.  Primarily because it's freaking hard as hell to meet new people, and my guy friends are all too possessive to introduce me to any of their old people who would be new to me.  I am not exaggerating - I have had more than one guy straight up tell me that they wouldn't trust their friends with me or they just don't want to share me.  And if your friends won't hook you up, then who will?

 

So I'm thinking about re-activating my eHarmony membership.  You may remember that last year, about this time, I let it expire because in three months, they had only managed to come up with one person I actually wanted to talk to in real life, and I went on two dates with him before I decided that that was enough of that.  As I was taking a step down in salary at the time, I didn't really see any reason to continue paying for the privilege of not meeting anyone I wanted to go out with, as I seem to be capable of doing a pretty good job of that on my own for free.  As I let my subscription lapse, I apparently offended the eHarmony gods when I made a change in my profile to alert anyone that wanted to communicate with me that I would not be able to respond.  I received the following e-mail:

Subject: eHarmony Account Information - URGENT

Dear Beth,

During regular site maintenance, we noticed some content written by you that violates our terms and conditions.

Because this violates the terms and conditions that you accepted when you joined eHarmony, we have turned off your matching. You will not receive any further matches.If you want us to reactivate your matching, please log into your account and change the content cited above. Please e-mail us at --------- explaining why you wrote this content. Mistakes and misunderstandings will happen, so if you feel we are in error or do not understand your meaning, please let us know.

Sincerely,

The eHarmony Team 

So basically they rolled up a newspaper and spanked me with it.  It's just so goddamned condescending - any other dating site would have just deleted the offending content and moved on.  Of course, this doesn't stop them from sending me their fucking "newsletters" that give you such sage advice as "don't get drunk on the first date" and their offers to renew my membership at rock-bottom prices but you better act fast because this offer will expire in two days and you'll never have another opportunity until next month when we send you another one.

You may be asking yourself at this point why I am considering signing up again.  And to that I say...because it's cheap.  Much cheaper than a night of speed-dating, or a wine tasting/spelunking/pole dancing class for singles.  And it takes a minimal amount of effort on my part, and might provide me with another two dates that will remind me why I hate dating sites for another year.  That, and the little voice in the back of my brain that never gets tired of reminding me that two of my cousins met their wives on eHarmony.

 

And...I NEED TO DO...SOMETHING.  IMMEDIATELY.  It's a start.

 

So I at least dealt with the spanking and got them to turn my matching back on.  I haven't given them any money yet, but I did at least pull up my profile to see if there's anything I would change this time around.  That's when I realized that I think I'm too cynical for the eHarmony right now.  Seriously - I find reading my own profile to be fairly nauseating.  It clearly needs a little spicing up, but I'm having trouble figuring out how to do that, since the eNazis are apparently even offended by the word "smartass."  A word that holds a very important place in my vocabulary. 

Think I'm kidding?  My answer to the question, "Other than your appearance, what is the first thing that people notice about you?" had originally read, "My smartass sense of humor."  Unbeknownst to me, some eDitor changed it to read, "My smart sense of humor."  Um, I don't think so.  I may not know what people notice about me first, but it has a hell of a lot more to do with my ass than my smarts.  They won't edit you when you misspell the name of the author of the last book you read and enjoyed (unless there's another version of The Firm that was, in fact, written by Jon Grissom), and they won't correct EGREGIOUS grammatical errors, but the smartass has to go.  If you find the word "ass" offensive, fine, delete the statement.  Or if you must actually alter the text, alter it to something that at least means the same thing as my original intent.  Of course, this did give me the opportunity to type the word "smartass" into an online thesaurus to find an alternative that wouldn't offend the good Christian folk at eHarmony.  (Oh, yeah, I feel the need to include here, for those of you who don't know, that eHarmony is a faith-based organization.  That's why they're so committed to setting up marriages, and why they don't let the gays play.  Had I known this before I signed up, they never would have gotten a penny from me.  But we've already established that I am lazy, and they already have my profile.)  But I've decided that EVERY.  SINGLE.  PERSON. on that damned site answers that question with some variation on "my sense of humor."  So I need a new answer.  Something spicy.  But I'm drawing a blank.  So I come to you guys for suggestions.

I did make one change today.  The "Five things I can't Live Without" are now as follows:

1.  Family

2.  Instant Messenger

3.  Wine

Dairy

5.  The Funk

It's sad, but #5 officially makes this list infinitely more interesting than anyone else's I've read.  So I'm making it my personal mission to change one profile item at a time until my profile makes me happy in an appropriately wiseacre/smartaleck/Gothamite/impudent/whippersnapper/wisenheimer/

cheeky/flippant minx/malapert/brazenface/chutzpadik kind of way.

 

If you have any suggestions for what people notice about me, or something only my best friends know about me, or anything else I would like my matches to know about me, please share in the comments.  Because so far, I've only managed to attract nice, normal people. 

And I find normal people MIND-NUMBINGLY DULL.  Discuss.

Spin Cycle

I promise, this will be the last Sex and the City-related post for a while.  But I gotta get one more in - the marketing blitz has warped my mind to the point of viewing the world through pink, sparkly glasses...

 

One of the things people love/hate about SATC is the formula.  Most TV shows have one - it what keeps them consistent, earns the viewers' loyalty, and (in the case of a good one) allows the writers to take the characters pretty much wherever they want and still have a cohesive show over many seasons.  In the case of SATC, that formula includes four characters based on stock female archetypes, in plotlines that are generally tied together via a vague metaphor for relationships that is articulated via Carrie's voiceover/column for the week.  I find my overall impression of the quality of a particular episode is directly related to how well (or poorly) the four characters' stories are integrated into that central theme.  Sometimes, it's incredibly awkward, and the puns are...well...a stretch.  But, when it comes together in an organic fashion in a way that flows seamlessly, well...it's right up my alley.

 

So, in that spirit, and in the spirit of all of the girly cinematic goodness happening all over the world this weekend, I'm going to try to write this post as if it were a column a la Bradshaw.  I've not been writing a whole lot lately (although there are still some Request Week posts coming), and I've heard of some very famous authors getting over writer's block by adopting someone else's style and knocking out a quick piece.  However, the first rule of writing is to write what you know, and I know bupkis about fancy restaurants and $20 cocktails and Manhattan and...um...girly shit, so I'm going to go with a clumsy metaphor that has been pretty much following me around lately.  One which will probably crash and burn, but here goes.  It will probably help if you imagine Sarah Jessica Parker reading this in voiceover:

 

It seems everywhere I look these days, there's a bike coming at me.  People biking to work...to the grocery store...training for a race...or simply having fun getting around town while mowing down pedestrians for twenty points each.  So, on a Friday night after work, I abandoned the rat race to attend a bike race.  It was THE place to be...if you're into that sort of thing.  Men in spandex, comparing their best times and checking out each other's equipment...they might as well have been sniffing each other's asses like dogs.

The race in question was the Criterium - a "thigh burner served with a side of road rash" in which a mob of cyclists chase each other around a couple of blocks of closed road at high speeds, mostly trying to keep up with the pack and stay on their bike through the next turn.  Meanwhile, the spectators hold their breaths and secretly hope for a spectacular crash at every corner.  As I watched the first few laps, I started thinking about cycles, and the ones we all settle into over time...eat, sleep, work...watching the same shows and movies over and over again on DVD, even though we know them by heart...having the same cocktail at our favorite spot with the same people...obsessing over the same crush that always seems to be there as others wax and wane.  I couldn't help but wonder: in the Criterium of life, are some of us pedaling so furiously that we never realize we're riding in circles?  Or worse - are some of us on a stationary bike?

I spent the following evening with a Very Good-Looking Man (who, it turns out, had been at the Criterium - he showed up for the Elite race, about the time I left).  There's nothing quite like having a VGLM all to yourself for a whole evening.  Even if it's not a date, just being with the object of your unrequited affection and doing something you both enjoy is exciting, and comforting, and special.  Every time you make him laugh - REALLY laugh, not just chuckle at your nervous banter - if you can catch him off-guard and leave him speechless it leaves you  a little high.

Until you're sitting there, waiting for the concert to start, and he takes out his cell phone to send a text message.

"Texting your GIRLfriend?" I say, in my best kindergarten ooo-ooooooOOOO tone of voice.

"Well...I wouldn't exactly call her my girlfriend...yet..."

And just like that, I hit a pothole.

Never one to miss an opportunity to prove I don't care that a guy doesn't like me by asking about the girl he DOES like, I probe for details. 

"Second-year med student...spending the summer in Kenya doing some sort of medical aid..."

Through some thoroughly over-the-top flirtation and harassment, I establish that his general type is tall, blonde, athletic.  Pretty much exactly what I always thought it was, and what I will never be.

"But physically she's not really the sort of girl I usually go for..."

"Spitfire...good banter..."

So this girl is basically me.  Except she's a REAL doctor.  And a humanitarian.  And probably Very Good Looking with her hair in a ponytail and no makeup on.

The rain has started, the pavement becomes slick, and I hit a manhole cover.  I fly off of my bike, and start counting layers of epidermis as I leave them behind on the asphalt.

I think it's once again starting to sink in that he's racing with the Elites, and I'm just...pedestrian.