Viewing blog entries in category: Adventures in Online Dating
Bad personality traits/characteristics: stupidity, ineptness, laziness, incompetence, unresourcefulness. Which traits stand out in this exchange between myself and a PoF guy?
So, a few days ago, I receive this message from a guy who lives a few hours south of me—outside of Phoenix:
Hi where is Sedona az
I don't reply because he has exhibited these traits: ineptness, incompetence, laziness, and unresourcefulness.
Today, I get another message from him:
You don't like me none??
My reply this afternoon:
I like resourceful people who know how to use Google maps.
So I figured he would take offense to my sardonic comment and block me. Or, at the very least, I'd never hear from him again. But no. Oh no, it went right over his head.
Not sure how that reflects me
Wow. Just wow. Stupid is an understatement.
Folks, it only takes one or two messages to screen out the undesirables. If you are going to do online dating, you have to be efficient. Time is a valuable resource. No sense wasting his or yours.
And no, I will not be continuing with that conversation.
I'm holding out for exceptional. Good enough won't do.
I am having way too much fun with this online dating stuff. Just now a guy without a pic messaged me. He says: Nice selfie. How is Sedona today? I debate if I should even reply. I decide I am in 'that' kind of mood. So I do. I respond: Sedona is beautiful. Perfect weather. Where are your pics? He replies: I took them down. lol I was going to send you one but this thing wants me to web site upgrade. He must think I am a dumbass. How insulting. So, I respond: Put them back up, then send me another message. I hate excuses. Don't you? He replies: lol that's good stuff. My reply:
I am not kidding. I really DID send him that video.
He writes back: wow that's funny! Close but I don't have a goatee. I reply: Prove it.
Think he will post his pic? My guess is no. Probably married. Lonely. Wants some female attention from an attractive, intelligent woman. Guess what? That woman is NOT going to be me.
Oops, I lied. Oh dear. He just wrote back again: I can text you a pic. I replied: Are you married?
Where is this going, right?
He replies: no. Now how convincing does that sound? Please. My final reply: This is a dating site. People post their pics. I can't be bothered any more. Take care. Of course he has to have the last word: ok se la vie.
I'm sure he has already messaged another woman or two in the time it took me to type those last lines.
It's like playing darts. Odds are if you throw a ton of darts, eventually you will hit the center. Maybe some lonely woman will appreciate being messaged by Mr. No Pic. Sad thing is, she better have a pic and one that is attractive, or my guess he won't even bother. He is the faceless hunter. But his prey? It is ALL about the face.
This is my love language according to a pop psychology quiz I tool online. Iona Mink posted the link in the forums. I am not surprised at all by the results. I could have told you my type without taking the quiz.
Because I feel loved and cherished and worthy when others use words of affirmation, I am able to connect with others emotionally and intellectually online through message board interactions, emails, chatting, texting, and conversing on the phone. And this is why I am drawn to cerebral types and wordsmiths. They are so good at communicating love and affection through words. They are also good at communication hate and displeasure as well.
Those who derive love and show love through sensory touch, would feel a void if primarily connecting through just words. A guy who needs lots of hugs, cuddling, spooning, and hand holding in order to feel loved will be very unhappy and frustrated being with someone like me. We would be very mismatched. My lover/partner needs to know that when I tell him I love him, I mean it. And that just because I don't want to snuggle often, it does not mean I don't love him. We can get physical in bed, when we make love. But I need lots of personal space. And if you encroach on it too much you will start to appear as needy, desperate, and dog-like. Like a canine sticking his nose in my thigh to get my attention. This is one reason I hate dogs. They don't talk. They are all about physically connecting. They are extreme extroverts that annoy the piss out of me.
A man posted this in the POF forums...
Very insightful. I am new to POF and already I am running into some stumbling blocks. I do want to meet people and am hopeful that I can even meet one special person that I can really connect with—on a cerebral level. But that is the problem right there. Most men who have messaged me are extroverts. Want to meet right away and DO SOMETHING. Being an introvert, I don't want to go do something—right away. I want to take it slow. See if there is some intellectual chemistry there. Because if not, frankly, it won't work for me—no matter how good he is in the sack. I need my mind to be stimulated as well as my bod. I want an intellectual equal, not just a spooning partner.
I wonder if this is not the medium for me at times—because of the reasons you mentioned in your post. But then I remember it is EXACTLY my medium. The written word is where I shine. Online connecting is something I am good at. It is the in person stuff that has me feeling anxious. Not because I am shy but because I am sharing space. In-person intimacy is a different animal. I enjoy being alone too much for my own good. I just don't have the urge to merge like I did when my hormones were compelling me to get out there and get some. (Sorry to be so crude.) As I get older, I care less and less. I don't mind growing old alone. It isn't something I dread or fear at all. Sounds kind of peaceful, actually.
I have 'introverted' listed in my profile. With the qualifier 'very', no less. Am I putting off men who steer clear of introverts? I don't think so. Because honestly, 9/10 of the men who have contacted me couldn't define introvert to save their lives. Sorry, but it is true.
So this is my predicament. I guess I could just keep receiving and responding to messages. Or send a few out as well. Maybe one day some introverted, yet assertive, cutie will send me a message and we will click. In the meantime, no worries, no hurries. I'll continue to walk alone and that is OK by me.
So far POF has been a bit of a headache. I have chatted with about seventeen men in the last week or so. All initiated contact. Nine out of ten cannot spell to save their lives. Two have been blocked for sending pervy messages without pics. Perversion is OK coming from the hotties. Not OK coming from basement dwellers. I have been asked out by three different men. Not a bad batting record so far. I have read people complaining of never meeting anyone after three years of being on the site. Oh dear, if that becomes the case for me it will be because it was my choice. Maybe it is much easier for women. Though one of the whiners was female. Hmm.
Poetry man... it was over before it even began. This exchange went sour yesterday. Turns out the man is a bit of a bigot. People don't advertise these things. And I have yet to even see a profile that lists political leanings. So it really is something you have to find out by asking questions or through chatting a bit.
Am I really ready to DATE? Not so sure. But I am ready and willing to chat. And open to possibilities. I just don't need to get laid, or settle. Racism, sexism, ignorance, pushiness, are deal breakers. You aren't getting through the fleshy, soft gates if you can't pass through the hypothetical iron gates. There IS a price of admission. That price is brilliance. Show me your shimmer, boys. Show me your shimmer.
Today is the tenth day in a row that I will have worked. Haven't had a day off since two Tuesdays ago. And will work through the weekend as well. I could have taken off yesterday. But I chose to work instead. I am enjoying staying busy. It keeps me out of trouble. Sort of. Well, I do have far less time to chat or fight online. Of course, I have still managed to find time to do a little of both of those things. But the busier I stay IRL, the less cyber life matters. Plus there are some obvious bonuses to working a lot. Money. Exercise—staying active rather that sitting in front of my computer. My job is very physical. Movement non-stop. I wouldn't have it any other way. I can't stand sitting still at work. I need to keep very busy. And not just mentally stimulated but physically as well. Some people need to go to the gym after work to get exercise. Not me. I get plenty of it throughout the day.
Plenty of Fish has become boring, redundant already. Though admittedly I have not exactly been searching. I have been passive—letting them come to me. And I seem to be attracting a very distinct type. Maybe it is the type that most women attract. Because maybe there aren't too many types on POF. I just know that there is no way I would go on a date with ANY of the men I have chatted with. Well, maybe poetry man. But he lives pretty far away. It would be nice to meet someone who lives less than ten miles away. Maybe I will meet someone. But not through a dating site. I think I am going to just keep my eyes open. Maybe get involved in some activities. I could join the community rec center. Though, nothing turns me off more than a guy who works out a lot. I hate vain men. I'd like my man to be fit because he is active and doesn't over-consume. Not because he lifts weights in front of a mirror five days a week. So anyhow, I am choosing to layoff the dating sites for a while. Or at least the chatting part of the sites. I did discover the forums on POF last night. What a hoot. There is a section where people ask for profile reviews. I found it fascinating. Not only the profiles themselves but the comments. The whole back and forth is a sociological goldmine.
Solo. Oh, I have been bad, again. After the whole Croce fiasco, I chose to stop taking the high road. When getting shot with arrows, one can run, duck, or grab the arrows with two fists and throw them back in the direction where they came from. I have chosen to throw them back. I have to admit there is some twisted fun in sparring. I'd be lying if I said I do not enjoy it to a degree. But, I think as my real life gets more complicated and filled with work and relationships, that Solo and all its characters will seem like just that, a cast of characters—interchangeable, replaceable, and forgettable. No one really seems to take it seriously (so they claim). So Neither shall I. That is the plan, anyhow. And we know that can go either way. Time will tell.
Some people spend the better part of their days actively thinking about and looking for love. What they want is to deeply connect with another. To have companionship. A special person to spend time with. Someone to confide in. And this is a truism found in all age groups from young teens to people in their 90s.
And most of these folks do find love. Once. Twice. Lots of times. Many are serial monogamists—going from one relationship to another without pause or reflection. They just need that void filled quickly. Being alone is too lonely.
Then there are a few of us who are a different kind of animal. We function best when alone. Are happiest living as solitary creatures. And thus fiercely resist merging our lives with another. Cohabitation is done out of economic necessity, if ever, but never because one wants the company of a housemate/live in lover. We are all most likely introverts. Extroverts crave social interaction. Actually seek it out like hunters. What do introverts do? Nothing. We aren't proactive about dating or finding love. We can't be bothered. We are content in our little worlds of one. We enjoy our own company more than the company of others. Doesn't mean we are misanthropes. Not at all. For I love people. I find them fascinating—to observe, and interact with. But on my terms. When I want. When I am in the mood.
But, even the most introverted of us needs to have connections with our fellow human beings. The desire to share and express oneself and have a listener on the other end, is, I believe, universal. No one wants to only live entirely in their heads. But what someone like me wants is a mirror image, I believe. Someone very similar to ourselves. Why? Because we are terrible at compromising. And compromise is the thing one must do if one wants a partner. It is the price of admission.
It seems I am having a very difficult time paying that price. It is just too much. I tried making a deal-breakers list:
Unattractive/grossly overweight/facial hair
But it was not all-inclusive. There are so many more in my mind. In fact, two that I had not listed, ARE mentioned in my Plenty of Fish profile... in a not so subtle way. How is this for a stop sign?:
If you love dogs and/or are religious or spiritual, we may clash. But I am open to chatting with anyone.
Or how about this, a little polemic against romantic love, that I posted out on the forum last week. Does it speak of compromise?
I love the high of being in love. But when that fades, if there is not a friendship or deep respect for that person, I will lose interest. And that feeling of being in love lasts how long exactly? Not very long. And chances are I don't even really know or like that person very much. But I thought I 'loved' them. That is until the chemicals that bathed my brain in the delusion of love dissipate. Then I am left with someone and don't know what to do with them. I don't want to do the co-dependent thing. Not my style. I am a shark, not a swan. So I become single again. And start chasing that next high. It is about feeling good. Not about a contract. Or buying a house together. Or raising kids. Romantic love is about chemicals, like you said. And sex. Sexual attraction disguised as interest in the person and their lives.
Love for my son and mother are different. It is not a delusion brought on by pheromones and hormones. They are real stable relationships that have become strong over time.
I like having both. Key is to not try to make the first seem like it is of the second type.
Sadly, I still buy into all that romantic love BS in film and books. I don't know why exactly. And it is not a good thing. Because those stories tell me there is something wrong with me because I don't want those things. Or can't have them. Or can't sustain a (co-dependent) relationship.
I want sex and passion. But I don't want to hold your hand while we walk down the beach. We are not one. We will never be one. I am me, you are you. Stop being so clingy.
I asked my mom recently why I can't be like everyone else--happily married for years. She said, "It's not for you. You never wanted those things. You were always so independent." She is right. And as I get older and crave sex less, I am less inclined to shack up just to get those needs met. It gets easier being a shark when your hormone levels drop. The urge to merge lessens. Thank gawd.
That is why dating is kind of a joke for me. For what? For a long-term relationship? Someone to DO things with? I am an indoors person who loves being alone. Sex? Well he better be freaking good in bed or a hand will do the trick.
Do those words suggest I am wanting and willing to compromise? That I even want a relationship at all?
And yet, I am currently interacting with seven men on POF. All of them are very sweet and considerate. But two stand out. One is a poet! We have been chatting through the construction of one long, ongoing poem. Fun! That is what I want. Fun. No compromising. No headaches.
The other, chatted me up on day one before my profile was complete. Very handsome guy. We have been texting the last few days. But last night he sent a message after reading my updated profile. He asked, "No dogs or religion? I have a dog and am Christian." I wrote back with a snarky reply, which, WOW, I cannot copy and past here, because guess what? He just NOW deleted and blocked me. And our exchanges are now invisible. Holy cow! Here I am thinking I am the one being closed-minded. Please. Well, this gives me the out I needed, right? But truly, who ended things? I did, with my over-the-top, atheist, anti-dog mini rant/reply I sent him. I did write again, right away, however, and apologized. I am very good at apologizing. Just not always good at censoring my thoughts/opinions.
Why is delete the way so many men seem to go? The ultimate snub. What are we in high school? I mean really. Can't you just tell the person, I think we are incompatible and should discontinue corresponding? It is so odd, especially when no stalkerish behavior has been demonstrated on my part. Just the opposite. Well, maybe that is it. His ego was bruised. Mr. Hot Stuff isn't used to someone putting on the brakes. And I can think of another example of a person who was fond of deleting. Perhaps it is all about ego. Oh, grow up already boys! This woman is looking for a man. I think. Well maybe not looking. But I definitely know I am not settling for a little boy.
So, I guess it is the poetry man for now. Maybe we can keep things light. And poetic. If so, maybe I'll stick around. Maybe he'll stick around.
OK. Bear with me. I have not lost my mind. I really haven't. I can see Davie rolling his eyes.
So, Ben wrote back. Says he actually only met one of Kent's ex subs. (Backstory: here & here) He exaggerated to inflate his ego. What else has he inflated? He says he didn't meet her on OKC, but rather, at another site called Plenty of Fish. Heard of it, but never visited the site. Three minutes later, I'm checking out some profiles. No need to sign up first like you do at some of the other sites. Wow, I decide, the caliber of men seems to be greater at POF than at OKC—at least in the looks department. So, I sign up. This site is free as well and has a similar format to the others. Of course they want a photo. They all do. So, I upload the first pic in my random pics folder that looks cool. It is a photo still from the film 8 1/2. I am not sure about posting a pic of myself at this site yet. I want to get my feet wet, so to speak.
Holy Toledo! Not even a minute after submitting my profile, I get THREE messages. Not one. Three. And the guys aren't too shabby. Nor are they far away. Locals. Two ask about the photo with some pretty witty remarks. I play a little guessing game with both. Neither have seen the film. Won't rule out either based on this alone. Then over the course of the next hour, I get five more messages. Three want to meet me. Now this is just creepy. I have had no contact with them nor have they even seen my photo. Desperate?! Undiscerning?!
Before I headed to bed, I uploaded a real pic of myself.
Well, Tad—that's what I will call him here, as he claims he is a yuppie—just wrote again this morning. Must have seen the pic. Still interested. That is a good sign. I think. And gave me his phone number. I asked him if he is working this morning. Last guy I asked this said no, he works nights at Walmart. Nothing wrong with that. Better than living on the dole, right? Anyhow, Tad writes back and says, "No.... was thinking of me hiking... I have some gathering or something at 5 and that's all." How many strikes do you see in that response? Let me break it down. One, possibly unemployed. Two, hikes. I hate hiking. Three, used the pronoun 'me' when he should have said 'I.' Lame-o. Four, can't construct a proper sentence. Four strikes. That is one past already being out. How much do you want to bet he has a big smelly dog? I don't think I will be texting him.
Online dating—who does it and why? Seems these folks are pretty lonely. Kind of makes sense. They are all middle-aged singles/divorcees and empty-nesters or childless. They are in the second stages of their lives and want to share these upcoming years with someone special. I get it. I think. Why am I doing it—I mean exploring this subculture? For research purposes, of course.
Okay, by now, you must be sick of all the OKCupid stuff. So I am talking about that site, yet again, with some trepidation. It may be the last time. But I can't make any promises.
Here it is. I just got an email from the site informing me that...
you might want to sit down for this...
You read that correctly. It has been determined that I am now considered to be an attractive member. And thus will now be matched with other 'attractive' members. No more Doms, Bens, or dogs? Just good looking folks from here on out? They must have sensed my disappoinment with the place and have thus sent out the big guns? Hardly.
Who wants to bet that that letter is sent to every single new member after the third week of membership? What a crock, eh?
Online dating posts:
Plenty of Fishermen
Oh my gawd. Last night, right before I was about to crawl into bed, I got a message from 'Ben' on OKCupid. He and I had had a week-long series of exchanges. Nice enough guy. Too much baggage. Still married, yet separated—only since December, though. Sorry bud, you are clearly on the rebound. Give it time. You need to heal. Learn. Regroup. Moving to the next thing too soon, will surely have you repeating the same mistakes. Anyhow, so I last had contact with him about a week ago, until last night, when he sent the message.
Out of the blue he asked, "So, was that 'I want you to train to be my sub' guy's name Kent by any chance? "
What the? Had to find out what was up with that. Noway was I sleeping until I learned how he knew the Dom's name. Remember the Dom I mentioned in this post?
So I asked Ben, "Yes. How did you cross paths with him?"
A half hour goes by. No reply. Dang I have to work in the morning. I can't wait all night to see if he writes back with an answer. Tic toc. Tic toc. The suspense is killing me. Btw, Ben has removed his photo from his profile. Of course, heightening the suspense.
Finally, forty minutes later, he sends this response, " LOL! Oh what a wicked web we weave! OOhh, let's just say he's a liar and a cheater, something that so many internet hopefuls fall so easily for."
WTF? I hate cryptic shit. What is that supposed to mean? Oh Jesus. Round two. This is a game I don't have time to play. Just tell me how you know Kent for fuck's sake.
So I write back with this, "I am not surprised. Did you meet someone else that mentioned him? Hilarious."
Fortunately he writes back right away...
"Obviously. I was so ignorant. Here I thought it would be impossible for a dom to actually cheat. I mean, seriously. That's the 'dom', whose very word is law. If the dom can't do what the dom wants, then how could he/she be a dom in the first place?
As a side note: I had to either pull my pics, or vanillafy my profile. Have to appear respectable for the time being."
How old is this guy? Jiminy Christmas!
OK. I needed to get to the bottom of this even if it turned into an all-niter. So I ask, "What the? No comprende. Cheat? Cheat on who? How do you know this guy? Why do you have to vanillafy your profile? Were you guys chatting? I thought you were both straight. Are you attracting his ex subs? Ahahahaha."
I am laughing my ass off at this point. I can see it now. Ben chatting with Kent... negotiating a D/s contract. Haha.
Turns out, it wasn't quite as twisted. He replies, "Yeah. I would appear to be a sub magnet. Never considered to consider being a dom. I don't want to direct traffic. I just want to sit back and watch. Lol!"
Now I am just rolling my eyes. What a tosser. He keeps me up to tell me he is a sub-magnet. Congratulations buddy. What a freaking honor.
So I tell him what anyone in my position would say, "Be careful. Have fun." In other words, "Fuck Off!"
I think I am done with that site. OKNofun!
Still... I am curious why the subs are drawn to Ben. Must be because he says he likes sex. Are subs nymphos? I think they are. They just like it rough. Wonder if Ben will write back.
Wow. OK. So I am not off to a great start. OKCupid could just as easily be called OKStupid at this point. Or maybe I should just say OKStupid, in reference to myself—as in what were you thinking, silly girl?
Let's just say I have not exactly come across the cream of the crop. Or any crop worth harvesting at all. But being the open minded, fun-loving, and inquisitive person that I am, I have answered all messages and been very generous with my time and replies. Oh don't ask why. I really couldn't say. Sport? Curiosity to learn about the misfits to be found on online dating sites? A sociological investigation of sorts? Call it what you will. But I haven't dismissed someone flat out—say— because he is only five feet five. Or because he was drinking a beer at 1:00 in the afternoon on a Monday. Or because he TOLD me to call him NOW. Or because he is Catholic and 'very serious about his religion' even though my profile states I am atheist and 'very serious about my views.' Or because he has three dogs that he takes with him EVERYWHERE, even though I make it abundantly clear on my profile that I dislike dogs. Or because he wants kids but my profile states I do not want any more children. But, I'm certain my little set of horrors pales in comparison to what others have experienced on OKC. Still, I am annoyed.
Funny, the number one question I have gotten has been, "Is that pic really you?" "Why?," I asked. ''Because some people show up and they are 200 pounds but they had a pic of a thin person." OK. "Nope, I am thin. That is me." Bells go off. Paranoia sets in. Hmm. Well then, I begin to wonder... how tall is that five foot five guy, really? And, if guys lie about their age, is that really a recent pic? And, was that pic taken before he gained 100 pounds? Or, is that his brother, not him? They look a lot alike and he didn't have time to take a pic of himself? And, oh, that car he is leaning on is a show room car? His ride is actually a ten speed bike?
But, the most disheartening thing about it all has been this. I have yet to meet one person that seems even remotely interested in me. None of them have asked me anything. It is all about them. And me asking the questions, playing advice columnist to help them sort their damaged lives and heal from past relationships. I should change my user name to Dear Jen. Jen is my OKC handle, btw. If I used the name Jehne, well, I might as well also post my phone number in my profile, if you get my drift. I don't want the creepers finding this blog. And I don't want the five foot five guy to read this. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.
Anyhow, this is my take on it so far. There are two types of men on OKC. Those who want to hookup—your details are irrelevant. And those who want fixed—your details are irrelevant. So, keeping my profile simple with few details DOES attract potentials. Because nobody is freaking reading them before contacting me anyway.
But I am not giving up—yet. Oh no. I still have a shred of hope left. Hope for what? I have no clue. But maybe that is my problem. I am acting like prey. I need to become the predator. But first I need to define my target clearly. Yes. What kind of man does Jen want? Let me pour a cup of coffee and think about it.
So, last night after I got home from work I spent the next few hours chatting with various men on OKCupid. Two days earlier, I decided to give the site a try. I am great at meeting men online. Chatting, emailing are my forte. But meeting them at work or around town has been more challenging when one lives in such a small city. But I DO want to get to know men who live within an hour's drive. So it was either Match.com or OKCupid.com. Match charges to chat. And I didn't want to fork out thirty bucks for a 'hobby' that I might not keep up with. So OKCupid, being free, was the way to go. Interestingly, I saw several men registered on both. Oh, and please, please, please do not go looking for my profile. How embarrassing for me. And don't sign up to mess with me either. You try doing that and I will smack you silly.
Speaking of smacking. Or spanking. I came across a Dom last night. You heard me right. Gosh I hope he doesn't use his tech skills to image search my profile pic then locate this blog and read this. That would be disobedient—talking about him—I gather. Haha. Why did I talk to him at all and not dismiss him flat out? Because I am a freak who is endlessly curious about people—all people. Obviously I am not the only person curious about the D/s scene or Fifty Shades of Grey wouldn't have been one of the best selling books of all time. After our little chat, I could not get the name Charlie Tango out of my head. Then I had a strange urge to clean the bathroom. What was up with that?
So anyhow, I have interacted with ten men already. Not too shabby. I am on a roll—weeding out the noways from the maybes very quickly. Not sure what I am looking for—if anything at all. But I DO know what I don't want. Guys in blue satin suits are a no go.