For some time friends and acquaintances have been urging me to venture into the unknown. The realm of online dating. Yes, I am online everywhere else with accounts at nearly every attempted social media venture that’s come along in the last 15+ years. So why not take it a step further and be even more obvious about my single status, with a service designed specifically for dating? Because it’s creepy! Not to say that I haven’t caved. I created a fairly innocuous profile last weekend and have spent much of the time since boggling at the responses I’ve received. One guy sent me a message before I’d even finished creating the profile. Fresh meat, I guess. Too many messages have come from sleazy guys who must be copy/pasting their typo-ridden missives to any and every woman with nary a glance at our profiles. An example: “hey baby, your[sic] sexy.” These are the same guys who have posted photos of themselves in touchy-feely mode with girlfriends past as if to say, “see? I can totally score top quality broads!” And I’m not uptight, but I haven’t been too keen on seeing that men with BDSM in their user names have been visiting my profile. Eep. Also awkward? Searching on key words such as “vegan” is like a walk down memory lane, turning up former roommates, activists and other acquaintances I’ve known over the years. After just two days of poking around this site I felt like I’d already seen every eligible bachelor in the Twin Cities. And I was not terribly impressed. What makes the experience all the more surreal? It feels like I’m just shopping online. FOR PEOPLE. “Hmmm, I’ll take one of those but do you have it in other sizes?” To add to the odd, there’s this business of rating profiles, Consumer Reports style. And the only local candidates I’ve rated well - with gold stars! - are ones who have been 5-10 years younger than I am. But those who have sent the most messages have been 5-10 years older. I’m not quite sure what that says about me. And naturally the only interesting guy I’ve kept an ongoing dialogue with is…in Canada. Not terribly helpful. But hey, I’ve got a new pen pal. I’m tempted to chalk this up as nothing more than terrifying-yet-hilarious mid-winter entertainment and move right along. Because I really don’t need to invite any more chaos into my life anyhow.
Bonus: The Museum of Broken Relationships is, unsurprisingly, still going strong.
Plus: Cephalopods need love too. And Warren Ellis says Happy Horny Werewolf Day 2010!
And: Two years ago today my divorce was signed into effect. Yep, on Valentine’s Day. And it would seem little has changed since this time last year (financial problems + single parenting struggles). I am Sisyphus.