Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Pounding the keyboard

As opposed to pounding the pavement.

Well, my foray into the ethereal world of online love has proven all but fruitless.  I would have thought that by this time, i.e. 13.78 days into it, that I'd have a filadex of lovers on the go, with little time for anything else.  Needless to say, I have been sadly mistaken and Mr GE remains ever elusive. Bastard.

This is what I can tell you so far.  I should take it back just a fraction and tell you that my first attempt at online dating ended disasterously.  I foolishly set about filling in one of those ridiculous surveys which is supposed to miraculously match you up with a swag of fellas, only to find that having completed it one hour later, that I was rejected by the website.  Who gets rejected by a website?  No, let me answer that question. I insist.  It was me.  I think it had to do with the fact that I was honest and these websites are simply not designed for honesty.

Anyway, that put me off for about a week. And after being cajoled and encouraged by my work colleagues, who might I add present with several character traits that could in certain circumstances be construed as, borderline stalker material (no offence intended), I decided to give it another go.

After getting my profile up on another website, I had what could be considered moderate success.  One email, and several 'kisses'.  Seeing some of the photos and profiles, you want to be sure that said kisses were of the air type, not full on tongue twisting snogs, although in my current state, you can't be too choosy.  With some work colleague coaching I got a bit of 'flow' happening.  Get a kiss in, send a kiss back.  Get an email in, get an email back.  No wait, I think it was more like, get an email in, send one back, then get another email in, send a text, get a text, chat on the phone, arrange to meet up, then nothing.  Or it was a bit of get a kiss, send a kiss, then nothing.  I mean this all seems so weird.

The good news is that I did receive one email from a guy that we (my and my work colleagues, and yes, we have a team thing going on; I would have no staying power without them) have affectionately called 'WarandPeace' for the lengthy tome he penned.  It came to pass that we met for a coffee and all I can say is that it's a good thing I've kept my expectations low because they are being met on all fronts.  I mean I did have some sympathy for the guy because he'd had the full spectrum of online dating disasters from stalker to psycho-single-mother to crazy-old-lady-who's-a-true-player-for-real and his wife did leave him for her best friend's brother who had cancer and has since died.  Let's face it, online dating throws every possible weirdo into a scary little mix and they all congregate there for a good time.

To be fair, it hasn't been all bad.  I have learnt some really useful new acronyms.  lol, which I thought meant, 'little old lady' actually stands for 'laugh out loud', and NMP, which means, not my problem (from WarandPeace), and my absolute favourite, gsoh, which I thought stood for 'great set of hooters', but in actual fact, means, 'good sense of humour'.  Well, what a relief.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Raising the stakes...going cyber

Oh God. I never thought I would do it, but I have. At least I have in principle. Yes, that's right, committed to going online and giving the electronic and ethereal world of dating a go.

I may need to be plied with alcohol to make it happen; I may need to be supported by a team of female cohorts; I may need to stab myself in the eye with a pencil when I realise that potentially every person I know becomes aware of my need to wholesale myself via an electronic catalogue of women in various types of swimsuit glamour shots, but I feel I can't call this project (i.e. Finding Mr GE) complete without having at least explored this option to some degree.

Internally, I feel myself cringeing with the realisation that my life has become as one of my work colleagues so painfully and bluntly put it today: "Up against a precipice of limited options, girlfriend".

The stark reality is that dating and meeting people is difficult. In truth it probably always has been. Look at the crap that Elizabeth Collins faced in Pride and Prejudice. A frigging uphill battle - and that was in the days when women did what women were supposed to do i.e. act like a lady, wear dresses, look good, take small steps in dainty shoes, lie back and think of England etc etc.

Things have become harder by an order of magnitude for every generation that has passed since that time. The more the fairer sex has learnt to provide for themselves and their families, fly to the moon, lead countries, earn the big bucks, whilst wearing dresses, looking good, taking small steps in stupidly high heels that make dainty look like homy peds, and lain back and thought of how she was going to do it all again the next day, the harder it has become for us to find men that can meet our needs.

I remain unconvinced that I'll find the pot of gold on websites like Oasis.com, which could more suitably go by the name of Mirage.com, particularly when everyone you talk to has their own online dating horror story to share. In any case, considering my oh so limited options, I am thinking of a profile that reads something like this:

I am a relaxed, down to earth mummy to a beautiful boy. If you want to date me, you'd better have your shit in a pile i.e. have a steady job (that pays) or stable business (from which you do not need to be rescued financially or otherwise).

In addition to above average financial stability, you will need to present within the top 5 percentile of emotional intelligence so you are able to read my mind, especially when I am over tired and exasperated with life generally. This emotional intelligence will extend to your super human powers at being able to deal with my crazy family who place all sorts of unreasonable demands on our respective lives. At the same time you must therefore be understanding of my inexplicable need to spend stupid amounts of time with this bunch of crazies.

You will need to have enough interests to keep you (and me, frankly) out of the gutter of boredom, but not so many that you end of spending no time with me (and above crazy family). You will need to love food, but not so much that after five years I will know exactly what you've eaten in that timeframe because you are now carrying as a permanent fixture recognisable as a keg-sized gut.

I could go on, but you get my drift. Look, the tone could probably do with some dillution, but it would be interesting to see what I could drag in. Keep you posted!