3girls3cities3matches

IN WHICH I AT LAST GET OVER THE HOT GUY or MOVING ON LIKE A SHARK

2012-03-07T09:55:00.000-08:00

Finally, FINALLY, I have given up carrying a torch for One Syllable (refer to first several or so blog entries and my New Years one, if you’re puzzled). I mean, what could I do further? I practically put myself naked on the dining room table, decorated with sushi like Samantha in Sex in the City (figuratively folks, and for the record I’m most definitely a CHARLOTTE, not a Samantha), and he could not deliver, in fact, frankly, he acted like a teen-age girl. However, because I respect his profession and privacy, I won’t elaborate further.

So it’s finished, kaput, finis, etc., and I might add, before it even started up a second time, but I suppose that is best. So hopefully all of you who had alarms going “ding, ding, ding…” when I mentioned “do-over” will be mollified. As I’ve told several of my friends… I’m not a masochist and even I, as much as I long for something, can see the writing on the wall.

So now, I have many other little things in the hopper. Nothing concrete. I did have an interesting exchange today on my favorite free site… guy emails the following:

“Does a real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?”

I should explain. At the end of my profile I say that people can contact me if they’re done exploring their feminine sides and they open the door for someone other than themselves.

I did steal that line from one of my friends who’s even more cynical about this than I am. Oh, did I admit that? Well, again, taking from what I said up a couple of paragraphs, I’d have to be a masochist not to be a little cynical and a little protective at this point, but I do press on – like a shark as I also have said.

So, back to the conversation:

“Does a real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?” he queried.

“In my opinion, yes,” I wrote.

“Would you consider sleeping with me on the first date?”

“I would consider many things, but the distance is just too much, sorry,” (he lives 63 miles away).

He persisted and I now ignore. You can do that.

Another gentleman, on the same site, had a photo he posted wearing gym shorts (from the 80’s in my estimation), running shoes and socks and that’s all, she wrote. He had contorted himself into some kind of stretching position, which was supposed to, I guess, show everyone how limber he was.

One could take one’s imagination even further here. That Gym Shorts Man might be adept at many of the more difficult positions of the Kama Sutra, but that’s only, again, in one’s imagination, and only again if one wanted to.

I actually remember doing such stretches when I was taking Hapkido (a form of Korean Self-Defense). So Gym Shorts Man wrote me a poem that was rich in sensual images and long on corniness. It had a huge ICK factor.

The only way to get rid of the cringiness was to send it to a couple of friends. One, I think, nearly did a spit-take on her computer screen and said she nearly threw-up into her yogurt. Another said she was throwing up in her mouth. They were both bowled over in hilarity. If I can’t share, if I have to spare the snark, I can’t do this!!

Not so nice of me, but, honestly, folks, one has little patience for those things at this point. I also marvel at the things that some people think are charming. Don’t despair, I was very kind and just said I was not one of those women to whom poetry initially appealed, but he could write me a nice note and I would respond. He wrote something further poetical and I could no longer take it. I don’t remember responding, I have an aversion to people who can’t follow simple directions. He did write to me later on as well, but messages like that simply don’t provoke responses, certainly not for me.

I’ve been busy at it. I’ve joined one more free site, which I’m a little skeptical about. It has people from all over the world who just seem to want to waste time on-line. We will not waste time, as there is no time to waste!

I have been getting in touch with people and have had some responses. People get in touch with me, I sometimes respond as I’ve gone back to my old way of doing things… I just can’t be rude. If they don’t like it, I don’t really care. One of my friends suggested writing to 5 people everyday. That actually might be a good idea, because if one does that, one barely remembers or registers who hasn’t responded, so one’s ego isn’t too bruised in the process.

I have persuaded a friend to go back on Match and have cautioned her on the following, so some more lessons. You can’t get invested in ANYONE until you at least meet them. There are loads of people who just love the sound of their keyboard and email and email and email until you think, good grief, enough already. You write, you wink, you nudge, you do a couple of back and forths and then if they don’t want to meet, well, that’s it. Frankly, I can even do without the long and drawn out phone calls some people want to indulge in. I believe it may be just another dodge – another way to delay the inevitable.

Just meet me and if we like each other, you can have my number.

Really.

IN WHICH I SAY HAPPY NEW YEAR or I SLOW DOWN

2012-02-05T16:32:00.000-08:00

Miss me?

I know it’s been a couple of months and I feel terrible that I haven’t been as scrupulous about writing this blog. However, I guess there are times in your life when you just run out of steam.

I have certainly missed writing, but I have to admit, I didn’t miss all this dating nonsense. However, I am not quitting, I’m sort of in a holding pattern. I took myself off of the Fitness site since I really haven’t met anyone decent there since last summer, and since it’s a paying site and since I really don’t like that my age isn’t accurate, off I went.

I have had lots of hits and nibbles, this time from much younger guys. They are most definitely eye candy and one was interesting enough to meet as a friend, but their follow through is even worse than men in their 40’s and 50’s.

There has been a development – a possible do-over with One Syllable. I hear the collective groaning and I hear warnings flying at me at the speed of light and I take them all, really I do.

I went back and read over my entries about that whole thing and honestly, though I was hurt about it then, I am in a completely different place at least so I hope. However, he could just repeat the whole pattern again, and if that is the case, I have been warned. I am trying to hold myself above this particular fray.

Having said that, I am still on two sites, and I am still getting texted by the serial texter from last year. I am tempted to be impolite and not answer him, but he’s pretty harmless I suppose.

So another few updates, and I hope this isn’t terribly boring.

My dentist set me up with a guy. He was sure I would like him, he was a lawyer, age appropriate and at least had good dental hygiene. This may not seem like a great deal to some, but there is something to be said about it!

At any rate, he and I played phone tag for a good long time. Actually, I would have to say from the beginning of December to the beginning of January. I was out of town and I guess he was just unavailable, however, he did persevere and I thought it was a good sign.

We met at the local Starbucks (OF COURSE) and I, of course, made my usual instant assessment of no attraction. However, as usual, I was willing to give the guy a chance. We talked for a while and it turned out he was a human rights lawyer, and the more he talked the more excellent he became and the more unworthy I obviously was.

I made a statement about not liking the extremists of a particular group and I could see him shutting up like a turtle, completely withdrawing his head and tail. It was almost comical and so obvious.

Did I mention he had bad breath?

I contacted another guy on Match who was quite welcoming but after one phone message and one contact when he was just about to get on a plane when he promised a call-back, that is all I have heard.

Now you can see why I haven’t written in a while. Perhaps I just need to regain my enthusiasm. I hope I’m not easily discouraged, but at the moment, I need to take a breather.

After that, I’ll have my friend chose guys for me instead of me doing the dirty work. Maybe her choices will be better.

We’ll see.

IN WHICH I GET OVER IT AND MOVE ON or MOONLIGHT, MAGNOLIAS, AND BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

2011-11-16T15:05:00.000-08:00

Deep breath.

It’s fine; I’m just moving on from that last entry. No worries, and not too much leftover angst. Hopefully Janus is growing up and learning about rejection since he told me he’d only been on the site for about a month. Either that, or he’ll go back to his mother (with whom he is pictured in one of his photos) and cry a little on her shoulder.

I wish there was a way of warning people about the denizens of the site, but that could be horribly abused and we definitely wouldn’t want that.

I have slowed down a bit. A slight weariness in all of this and the tolerance for all the nonsense is getting less and less. I obviously need some kind of rejuvenation. I’m sure it will happen. I am the eternal optimist. I want world peace.

I did finally see Mr. Atlanta. It was interesting to say the least. We spoke a few times on the phone and he emailed me a couple of times as well. Saying things like he was going the extra mile for me and that he was my Hotlanta connection. Yes, I see you recoil too. Later I was told that I just don’t understand the different sections of the country, and that perhaps to a Southern lady, his line might have seemed utterly charming.

That going the extra mile stuck in my craw. It just annoyed me, but I tried to brush it off. After all, perhaps sectional differences (that have nothing to do with the Civil War) are something valid to consider.

He left it up to me where we would go and what we would do, since we were, as he said, in my home court. Did I mention I hate sports analogies? Besides, I am always bereft in this department so I just copied what I did the week before sans the friends. I made reservations in an excellent restaurant, dressed, took a deep breath and off I went. At least I knew I would eat well and I could make a quick getaway.

Since he is not a native and I made him drive fairly far, I was not surprised that he was late. He did, however, get there. Mr. Atlanta is a lawyer and a ballroom dancer, neither of which were exactly evident in his mode of dress. Suffice it to say that his jacket, some sort of hounds tooth in black and white, almost hurt my eyes and I was certain it would strobe on TV. He took my hand in his and kissed it, as he said in his profile he would do.

Okay, while not exactly charmed, I thought that he was at least pleasant.

He sat down, looked at the menu and continually grabbed his lapels as though he was straightening out his visual headache of a jacket. Though he was, as I said, in no way unpleasant, he most assuredly had a routine. He was smooth and practiced, and basically had a monologue going, telling me little bits of this and that and really very testy about interruption. I shouldn’t say testy that’s not accurate, he simply ignored questions or statements like “I know…” or “I’ve heard that….” and pushed on completely unfazed, undaunted and unaware.

Not in his repertoire? He didn’t pursue or answer, he simply soldiered on. He almost seemed to have the whole thing timed down to the part when he needed to tell several jokes.

I have to say that I HATE jokes…I love laughing, I love wit, but stories usually either leave me cringing or rolling my eyes. I so rarely find them funny, and I so rarely DON’T know what’s coming. My lack of hilarious laughter left him unmoved, and he continued unceasing and relentless.

I kept asking myself throughout the meal was he attractive enough to ignore the deficiencies of his actual presence…what I mean is his being in the moment and with me as opposed to going through his entire sequence of date-night entertainment. I concluded that the answer would have to be in the negative.

He, in his Southern Gentleman mode, walked me to my car and took my hand again. Eyes were definitely rolling in my mind….

“Do you know why,” he queried, “I’m kissing your left hand?”

“No,” I said obligingly.

“The English kiss a lady’s right hand, but the French kiss a lady’s left hand because it’s closer to the heart.”

I had it!

“Do you know that you’re not supposed to kiss the hands of unmarried ladies?”

Bull’s-eye.

“Well, that’s a matter of debate.”

Actually, I’m right about this.

And, I knew I’d never hear from him again. I hadn’t fallen for the Rhett Butler/Ashley Wilkes charm and he loped off, hoping for someone, I suppose, either more impressionable and naïve or at least more polite that I was.

Moving on.

In the last week I’ve had some more nibbles and it’s possible I’ll meet one or both or not…as you can see I’m temporarily running out of steam, but no worries…I’ll get my mojo back – promise.

Was reading about the 10 big lies that men tell on dating sites. None of them were news to me. It’s interesting, guys don’t lie about their age the way women do, but they do lie about height and weight. Women lie about weight. Also, evidently men lie or enhance their careers to the nth degree as do women and according to the article, they even say that they know celebrities to make themselves seem more desirable and interesting. Living in Lala Land, knowing celebrities only interests me temporarily.

Imagine bragging about knowing Kim Kardashian.

Lastly, supposedly, they lie about their income as well, but since I don’t care about that, I never worry. Luckily, I can say with great assurance, that I have never lied about anything except when people wanted me to lie about my age and I did that on two sites, one of which I’m not on anymore.

In the article the owner of a particular site called BeautifulPeople.com was interviewed at great length. I looked into this site as I thought at least the people would be good looking as I thought they would be fit on the Fitness site.

So your intrepid reporter went over to the site and saw that you register and post a picture and people of the opposite sex vote on whether you are attractive enough to be on the site. I must have left my brains outdoors for an hour since I actually registered, put one of my good pics on the site and started frantically checking every few minutes to see how I was doing.

I was in, I was out, I was in, I was out. They had a little red and green line with a little circle that moved up and down in the red and green as the votes came in. I had some positive and was in green territory and then went into red territory. To be scrupulously fair, they don’t tell you how many negative votes you get, but only the positive votes.

It was morning, and I’m assuming that most people weren’t yet perusing the dating sites… that seems more of an afternoon, I’m getting bored and day is winding down kind of activity.

I went for a run and had an epiphany.

What a REPUGNANT site!!!! Hello Ilana, where was your sense. You’ll be happy to know that I came home and took down my profile at once. I did notice I had 13 positive votes and someone had awarded me a virtual diamond.

Frankly, I’d have taken it if it were real.

IN WHICH I TELL A CAUTIONARY TALE or REALLY YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS STUFF UP

2011-10-17T16:24:00.000-07:00

I suppose it was inevitable.

I’ve been doing this over a year now and most of my experiences have been fun, hilarious, disappointing, hurtful, but in no way horrible – except perhaps for the guy who looked like he rolled out of bed and had a weird skin disease.

Had recently gone back on the free site that I had thought really atrocious for reasons I can’t explain. What can I say? I thought I’d just give it one more try. I uploaded the new photos, wrote a little more in my profile. Yes, I still have a car, but I was able to put in more, say more (again, not that I in any way shape or form think that anyone really reads profiles). Anyhow, there is a feature on this site that shows you a series of photos of bachelors also on the site and asks you if you want to meet them.

I was bored one day, and was rifling through the pictures and just idly yes, this guy is cute, I’d meet him, and no this guy is not for me, I wouldn’t meet him if the world was coming to an end. It was virtually a slide show and I was doing mostly “no’s” and a couple of “yes’s”.

Lo and behold, the ones I said “yes” to all wrote to me. It was nice in a way, so automatic, and easy.

I thought, maybe this is the way. No reading just looking, just the response to the physical.

Two of the gentlemen I really wasn’t interested in after a cursory glance at their profiles, but one looked rather nice. He was tall enough, attractive enough and quite literate in his profile. I actually enjoyed reading it; there was an intelligence and sense of humor present that is somewhat rare for these things. So, as the pickle man said in Crossing Delancy, this one I’ll meet.

I’ll call him Janus for reasons that will soon become obvious.

We emailed back and forth, just a few times. He was the usual, complimentary, yadda, yadda, yadda, and was swift to say, let’s meet. I said fine as endless emailing was starting to get on my nerves. We made a date for a place very near to me, which was good. Minimum of effort, I felt and possibly maximum results.

Traffic was bad that evening that we met. However, Janus did show. He was polite, a little too gushing in his compliments (I eventually told him he was a little over the top), and self-deprecating and smiling when I told him he was OTT. He was only a few years younger than me, but made a point of telling me I didn’t look my age.

We sat together chatting for about two hours. He was eager, energetic and did most of the talking. In fact, I really didn’t get a word in, to be honest. I thought he might be a little nervous, which is fine, after all, who of us doesn’t approach this with some nervous trepidation? As the date wore on, I knew he was into me, however, there was something nagging at me about him. I knew he seemed nice and I should see him again, but something was preventing me from entering in the idea wholeheartedly. He was saying things like we’d go on multiple dates, and that was bothering me for some reason as well. It seemed a little presumptuous. Anyhow, as we were waiting for my car, he asked me if I wanted to see him again.

My mother seemed to be standing there telling me that I ought to give him a second chance. See him one more time and then make up your mind. I prevaricated a bit, trying to think of when I could see him. He suggested a day, I wasn’t sure, and then I said to him, let’s communicate over the weekend (no, he didn’t suggest a weekend date).

Several days later, it was a Saturday morning, he texted me and asked how my weekend was going so far, and how nice it was to meet me. I was still hesitant and trying to think of response that evening when I went out to dinner with friends.

One of the diners snatched my phone and texted him back: “Great. Having dinner with friends. It was nice meeting you too.”

Harmless so far, right?

He promptly texted back saying “Lucky you”, which I wasn’t reading as snarky, but just brief, and then a second text asking me if I wanted to meet him again. Once again, I hesitated. I didn’t answer again. In fact I didn’t answer for two days.

That Monday evening I thought, this isn’t nice, I really have to answer him and have to say something that will not hurt his feelings but convey the fact that I don’t want to see him. So, nicey nice me says: “I’m sorry I haven’t answered, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve decided to re-think computer dating and take myself off the site (editor’s note: I did.) I just want to take a breather and wish you the best of luck.”

I went to take a shower and when I returned there was already a message. It was the most vile, obscene, nasty, misogynistic message I’ve ever received in my life. I was shocked, shaky and not just a little alarmed. I had never been talked to in this way and felt extremely violated

I called a friend and talked with her about it, she tried to calm me down and told me not to be upset as worse had been said to her. This is meant to make you feel better, but it rarely does.

I started searching my mind wondering if there was any way he could identify me further or find me. It was really that upsetting to me. Luckily, no more messages were received and I didn’t hear from him again.

It was such a turnabout. So much the opposite of how he had behaved when he saw me. Perhaps I saw the desperation and hysteria behind all the compliments and perhaps that was what repelled me. Another friend said I had dodged a bullet and frankly, I am proud that for once, my instincts were correct and I actually followed them.

Oh, and I forgot the corker… he had the nerve to say in the message I was too old for him anyway!!

You’ll all be relieved to know I wasn’t discouraged, and got together with a much nicer, normal guy. I told him what happened and he said he had my back. It was kind of him, however, he elaborated saying that he was worried about me doing the online dating thing and for all I know I could be meeting the next Ted Bundy.

I honestly don’t think that’s going to be the case, and I am pressing on. I know the rules of internet dating safety – very well, so please, one and all, don’t worry.

Just to lighten up this entry and give you all a bit of a laugh, I have included a self-description that I read from username: Mikiehotass:

I am ATTRACITIV, HONEST, and PASSOINAT.CARING.I am a one woman man that would never cheat on my woman i am not that type.I like the out doors camping,pic-nics mountains go for romantic walks on the beach.Like to explor new places going on week end road trips.I a hard worker i own a small l;andscape business.Have good values and morals.A good family man like to have a family. I am very will mannered. I PEREER THAT YOU LIVE IN SAN DIEGO

I am looking for a long trem relationship that lead to marrrriage.
looking for attracttiv female long hair and must be hot looking
with similar interest Iand goals
THAT YOU ARE VERY ATTRACTIVE AND AFFECTIONATE

This is lifted directly from his profile. This is not a joke, and I looked, English IS his first language.

I despair, truly!

IN WHICH I SUBJECT YOU TO ALL I’VE BEEN SUBJECTED TO or DIARY OF A MAD ONLINE-DATER

2011-09-14T16:05:00.000-07:00

I thought you should all suffer a little… or a lot. At least endure the pain of reading a title that ends with a preposition… if that isn’t disturbing enough.

Actually what I thought is that I’d catalogue my contacts for a little while to give you the absolute idea of what the experience is like. As Edward R. Murrow used to say,

“YOU ARE THERE…”

Poor souls.

On my fitness site I was contacted by two, count ‘em, guys from Washington State. I’m not sure why out-of-staters contact me. Perhaps they just can’t resist those new photos SM took of me. Really, I’m baffled. However, they did.

The two of them were most definitely hunks and one, whom I mentioned last time, kept asking me if he was crossing my mind. I bit once with him and said yes, and got an effusive email back, then nothing. Then a little while later yet another query if I was crossing his mind.

At that point, I thought, demented, and haven’t heard since.

The other guy just dropped off like a little autumn leaf – the way most of them do. The rate of attrition is very high. As you might have guessed, it’s basically about 99.9%. As I said in another entry, it’s as though they like to get their little tootsies wet but if the waves come in too close, they jump away.

On my favorite free site was contacted by a gentleman with the lovely yet subtle moniker HORNYMoFoFor69.

Charming, I thought.

Wanted to know if I wanted to hang out and have some fun. After breathing out and breathing in several times, I wrote a polite and mature (he is 31) note thanking him for his interest and telling him that I was looking for something a little more substantial.

Undaunted, he wrote back that I could be his girlfriend, and wasn’t that substantial enough?

Exhale.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Another man, Mr. Potatohead, near enough to what he called himself on the site, wrote that he thought that I seemed pretty neat. Reminds me of what Kevin Costner thought of Madonna and her performance in one of her documentaries, I think it was Truth or Dare. How she ridiculed him for that statement --though she ridicules fans who are stupid enough to bring her flowers she doesn’t like, so I don’t think I’ll put myself in her company.

I read through his profile and saw that he cautioned women who voted a certain way not to contact him. I wrote him back and thanked him for thinking that I was neat, but that he might not think so if he knew my voting patterns and that I was sorry. His response was, if I was sorry for how I voted in the past, it was forgivable.

I said I was more sorry about how I voted in the present, and then received something incomprehensible from him. It was all just too complicated for me, so I decided no answer was the best course.

From the land of moonlight and magnolias, I received a message from a courtly gentleman who named himself after one of the great heroes of the South. Again, I’m not sure what this long distance thing is, though, something whispers to me that they may be married or otherwise encumbered, and, perhaps, this is how they get their vicarious thrills. At any rate, this man was at least age appropriate, nice looking, and enjoyed competitive ballroom dancing.

I am all admiration.

I don’t know how to dance. When I go to weddings, I always dread it if someone wants to fox trot or otherwise partner dance. However, I do greatly esteem those who can.

He told me (after giving me several stories to illustrate this fact) that he could, from just looking at someone and reading their profile, intuit whether there would be any chemistry between them or not. Evidently, he thought there would be with me.

I wish I had that gift; it would have saved me a lot of expenditure on green tea.

He’s called me several times, so the jury is out on him. He says that he comes to LA a lot. So did the other guys from Washington State, and another guy from Idaho.

And so does the ex-Marine from San Diego, who thinks I’m the most beautiful girl on the fitness site. Very flattering, so I looked at his photos and he has the most amazing set of tattoos. I’m not one for body art, so I’m not impressed, but he did have one of the most developed backs I’ve seen in a while. Yes, on this site, no one hesitates to take off his or her shirt.

I’m sure you’re tired by now. Perhaps your head is spinning with the sheer number of oddities that I endure. There is, dangling at the moment, a gentleman who names himself after a superhero and talks about himself in the third person.

My eyes roll heavenward.

He has contacted me before and then disappeared, so when he wrote this time, I gently reminded him of this fact. He said he remembered, but had met someone else and wasn’t a serial dater. He was giving her a try in order to see what might develop. She, however, appears not to have worked out, so he was now seeing if I was still interested.

It is all so fatiguing, but I’m putting Superman on the back burner for now, not because I’m vindictive, but because someone else has come forward and actually offered dinner! Not just green tea, but full feeding, soup to nuts.

And, sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but if he’s nice, you won’t be hearing about him!

A SHORT MEDITATION or ENTRE’ACT DEUX

2011-08-31T16:56:00.000-07:00

So many thoughts have been revolving in my head that I can’t remember what I’ve written here and what I have been blathering on and on to friends about ... however, there is definitely more to say.

I’ve figured out why the whole online process is so weird and you will be proud at the profundity of what I’m about to impart. There may be a Nobel Prize in this for me. (Do they give them in sociology?)

There is absolutely NO context in online dating! What I mean is that in the bad old days, prehistoric actually, the only way to meet someone was either face-to-face, in letters or on the telephone. And, it was usually because your relatives, friends, or the Sears Roebuck Catalog had introduced you.

You had some kind of connection, some kind of framework, some kind of commonality even if it was just your brother’s girlfriend’s second cousin’s brother-in-law. Because if this, you could gossip about the hapless friend who introduced you, or complain about the family member, or, if appropriate, bad mouth the acquaintances that made the arrangements. It made for an interesting bond between two people and at least had the advantage of keeping the conversation stimulating and going for the interminable space of one date.

This is not the case today.

Now we have another matchmaker extraordinaire.

It is your computer.

I mean, really?

Cogitate on that for a second. YOUR COMPUTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The laptop or PC you’re peering at is your matchmaker, your yenta, your shodchenta, need I go on?

Okay, have you thought about it? Are you appalled and hasn’t the utter unreality of the situation hit you between the eyes? It certainly has me! … and yet, I continue to do it, and with optimism.

Jeez, it’s sort of awful, though, isn’t it?

I have friends who say to me, Ilana, you’re an elegant, attractive, intelligent yadda, yadda, yadda, woman, surely you can meet people the old fashioned way? (Don’t call me, Shirley).

You would think, eh? However, in my case, I work in an environment where the nearest man is about 22 (not in my wildest cougar dreams!), and my writing friend is the aforesaid computer (erstwhile matchmaker… OMG!!!). I’m simply not the type to strike up a conversation in the hardware store, or give come hither looks at gas stations. The wall of ice is just too difficult for me to break. That seems to be an unfortunate and enduring character flaw of mine.

A corollary to that whole meeting from the computer issue is the fact that it is easy to be a fantasist … you begin to imagine you’re in a relationship or at least at the beginning of a relationship with someone who has responded positively to (let’s face it) your photographs. He or she says something flattering about them, you feel complimented and you begin to respond as though you had met that person, were flirting with and had a strong connection with them.

There again, it begins. You start having that whole relationship IN YOUR HEAD! Remember that? And, oh the falling to earth is extreme, and worse than usual because there’s absolutely no question about how foolish you’ve been.

So, I ask, what do you do?

It’s the oddest thing.

There is a whole subset of our population that is over forty and unmarried. It’s a new sociological phenomenon, and society has yet to become equipped to cope with it. So you have singletons (as they call them in England) who are a certain age, don’t want to go to bars and clubs, usually the habitat of the twenty-something group, and don’t want to join the highly dreaded singles groups organized by churches and synagogues. I can assure you there is no URGE there… not for miles!

As I quoted Queen Victoria in another entry: There is no one here who is depressed. May I add that there is no one here who is discouraged. I am determined to use this wisdom to my benefit!

So what we do in the end is hang out with friends of the same sex, continue being a tolerated addition to married friends at dinners and other such outings, or sitting home, eating take-out and watching rom-coms with female relatives. Yes, I’m talking to YOU!!

It’s just so old-fashioned, isn’t it?

IN WHICH I RUMINATE ABOUT THOSE LAZY, HAZY DAYS OF SUMMER OR WARM BUT NOT SO FUZZY

2011-08-28T15:02:00.000-07:00

Have I mellowed out?

I’ve been told my tone is not so biting and acerbic. Evidently this was what people liked about my blog. Well, I’m not going to take this accusation lying down, I will be tougher, meaner, bitchier!!

I will…

The summer has been fun; I’ve gotten back on some of my old standby sites. Will not bore you with the details, however, the big FLASH here is that I’ve gotten new photos taken and put on my various different profiles.

Serial Monogamist, my buddy, is an excellent photographer and made me look good, folks. I mean, I would even date me.

So I posted and on the various (un-enumerated) sites and waited for the masses. Actually, I did get a lot of attention, just not exciting attention. I think I’ve mentioned that I see the same old faces on these sites. They say they have millions, and some even zillions, but where are they? I don’t know.

So why the hell do I see the same faces, the same irradiated faces, the same desperado faces (NOT ME OF COURSE), the same pleading faces … pick me, pick me, etc., etc. Why? Because WE LIKE YOU… no wrong show, wrong medium.

Simple, really, DUH, the reason is that they are also playing the numbers game like I am… can’t blame, them, don’t even want to, but I still want to know where the trillions (at least as many as our national debt) are, according to these sites.

I do have a story, however, that must be told. As you all know, by now, I am the profile detective!!! I am practically the Profile Whisperer… I can spot a phony at forty paces, or something totally brill like that. Well, I was going though suggested matches on one of my free sites and lo and behold, a man in uniform. Those of you who know me, know that I am an awful sucker for such a gentleman, so of course I looked further. The profile photo showed a man in camouflage with his name clearly visible on the pocket where these things generally are.

I thought this slightly suspicious for several reasons:

1) A soldier that far up in the chain (I believe he listed himself as some sort of General) would never picture himself on a public site in uniform.

2) … and I know there is probably some deep seeded reason for this, profile phonies seem to impersonate military for some reason. Possibly because they think they are catnip to women – and they are for some women.

Me, for instance. – er…. I???

At any rate, I cleverly googled the photo and found that it was indeed a military man and that the photo had been taken from Wikipedia! To put the cherry on top, whoever did this was enough of a dumb ass to make another profile using the same picture with a different location and a different age!

Gone and NEXT!!

I’ve learned something of value in the last month or two and naturally must share. There have been several dates with the same guy. I’ll call him Cinemaboy… Anyhow, we had a great first date at a boutique hotel in Beverly Hills. Lovely place, dark, looked my best and had a delicious drink. We chatted for several hours and had fun. He was cute, I wasn’t feeling a great stir of URGE, but thought to myself, you can’t hurry these things.

When it was over, I said, hey this was fun and he agreed. Didn’t say anything about another rendezvous, but I wasn’t downcast either way. Later that evening there was an email, wanted to know if I was “up for a movie”. I’m usually up for a movie unless they are so arty there is no discernible plot, too scary, or just too plain esoteric.

We met again had some nice hors d’oeuvre, and drinks again. I thought to myself, of course, hmmm, there seems to be more imbibing that I would have liked. Then we went into the film.

Here’s what I learned about this. It wasn’t the imbibing, if you thought that was foreshadowing or something, it wasn’t. It’s that when you barely know a guy sitting for two hours in the dark, even if your enjoying the movie is an awkward experience!

Best to have several more dates under your belt before trying this. You sort of sit there stiffly wondering if you can put your elbow on the armrest. Better to wait, take it from me.

If this all sounds silly and elementary (of course it does) remember that online dating is different than regular dating, the dating of my youth, where people at least had some head start in knowing each other before going out. The more I do this, the more the medium is beginning to feel overly artificial and forced.

I currently have a very handsome guy on the Fitness Site who keeps asking me if he’s on my mind, and continually tells me that I’m on his. As flattering as that all is, it’s harder to believe than when guys used to say that in order to coax you into doing something that you were for various reasons (which I can no longer remember) reluctant to do.

Need I elaborate?

IN WHICH I REVEAL MORE or THE VIBE BUT NOT THE URGE

2011-07-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

Much has transpired since last I wrote. Not, I hasten to add, anything that is going to get me off of online dating. Good for you, not so much for me! There have been some interesting adventures. Have gone on a few dates since the last time and more in the hopper.

Firstly, there was Yogaguy. He’s like an 8^th degree yogi or something odd like that and thinks he’s got it all figured out. We met at a local bar, a nice one with a restaurant I’ve never been to…I waited in the front and waited in the front, etc. Retreated outside and then he came out the door saying that he’d been inside the entire time. Had he not thought to look at the entrance? Perhaps 8^th degree yogis can just intuit that.

We sat at the bar, neither of us drinking anything alcoholic. Probably, I should have as he was standing in what was definitely my personal space the entire time. It was a little odd, and I drank down my Peligrino quickly. He then began to massage my lower spine. I’m good in that I don’t flinch anymore when strangers touch me (I did used to do this).

He was running his hand up and down my spine and it rested on my lower spine. Might have been much better had I been more attracted, but it was a mediocre experience.

He asked me what I felt. Wasn’t sure what was expected of me, and replied, “…er well a little vibration. What was I supposed to be feeling?” And he then said, “No chemistry.” And I thought, yep, buster that’s about right. So I slurped down the rest of the Pellegrino and made to leave. He then decided to walk me to the car.

I must interject that when we first made contact he emailed me and made it clear after 3 emails that I had reached my limit. He gave me his phone number and said that I could call when I had time. I found his process confusing and not just a little annoying (as well as abrupt and rude). And, I was so annoyed that I thought, let me call him because I’m feeling such hostility that maybe there’s something there. On the phone he told me his life story and seemed somewhat nicer. He did inform me that getting a second date with him was like hitting the jackpot, and a great compliment.

So back to walking me back to my car. I thought I wasn’t getting the second date, and it wasn’t breaking my heart. I got in my car and drove away. Two weeks later I get an email from him that either I needed a stiff drink the next time I saw him or I should just go directly to his bed and have a couple of orgasms and then maybe I would loosen up and he could get to know me.

There is no answer to that.

There was another guy that I winked at on Match. I have said how very much I hate those, but, nevertheless, I do it. At any rate, he asked for my number and called right away. He was nice looking and apparently a special effects coordinator for the movies. He proceeded to tell me his life story. He was a simple man as he constantly told me. He loved to ride his Harley, he was a cowboy, and he was just down to the earth.

He harped on those themes for nearly a half hour. I mentioned that nothing was going to get me onto his motorcycle. He then said to me, “I pretty much have talked you out of this, haven’t I.” And, I said, “Yep.”

Next!

Got back on my fitness site. Don’t ask why as there is no earthly reason for it other than the fact that it seemed a good idea to go out with guys who looked good in bathing suits for the summer.

I contacted another guy who was a stunt and fight coordinator.

Are you all impressed with how proactive I am??

Anyhow, this guy was a black belt in about 20 different types of self-defense and actually a very nice person. We met for coffee in a different place, not my usual coffee bean and had a decent chat. When it was time to go home, I said to him that it would be nice to hang out and he agreed.

I received an email from him the following day that he would like to take in a film with me. I thought that okay. His problem was that he was a little far away and so we had to agree to meet in-between. We did and saw X-Men. I thought we were doing pretty well, although I have to admit that I didn’t have a lot to say to him. He did enough talking with prompting and I kept telling myself he’s very nice, he’s good-natured, he’s attractive.

However, in the end, the movie was it for us. I guess he just felt the same vibe I did and thought we didn’t click. I would have given it another date, but then, I am always willing to give it another date. It’s how I was raised.

Luckily done with my class and on a respite going to the other end of the country for a week. Before I went, I contacted one more guy at Match. He was an actor that had been in law enforcement, and since One Syllable, I’m afraid that’s been the type that makes me salivate as much as some of my friends (and you know who you are) despise me for this penchant.

He texted me back and forth for a day or so and then sent me a picture that I should use for my contacts and did I have one for his? Well, frankly, even if I did, I thought the whole process was a little premature. And I was right. I met him at the local coffee bean and listened to him talk about himself for about two hours. I contributed a little, but seriously, just a little. He needed little prompting and few questions. He was really, REALLY attractive, but at the end of the two hours, I actually had to cut him off, and he muttered something about the fact that he could tell me even more stories.

Once again, I thought, perhaps he’s worth a second date. Perhaps he got his storytelling out of his system and we could actually have some back and forth communication. At any rate, I politely texted him that I had a nice time and enjoyed him, and may I say, I thought I was being generous. I needn’t have bothered. He didn’t answer, which was, I thought, extremely rude.

Just in passing this texting thing!! I am only beginning to understand the rudiments of the process. How long one is supposed to wait before returning a text, how much you say in a text which is might be utterly different to how you would speak to someone in person.

It’s manipulative and mystifying.

IN WHICH LIFE IS A JOURNEY NOT A DESTINATION or THAT WHICH MAKES ME NAUSEOUS

2011-05-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

For those of you who think that I’m over romantic because I am searching for love, I can assure you, that is hardly the case. I’ve been reading profile after profile and have to admit that the Hallmark platitudes are starting to get to me.

Spare me from walks on the beach, candle lit dinners and watching sunsets, it’s just not my thing. Help me to keep away from communications being a two way street, as comfortable in high heels as jeans, and please, never let me never get near anyone with a Harley or a mancave. I come off as a curmudgeon, but let me assure you again, nothing could be further from the truth.

What is true, and it’s not just my observation, is that many of the profiles are just a concatenation of what men think women want to hear. It is a compilation of the sappy, the syrupy, the banal, and the highly sentimental. Blatant calculations to make the feminine heart flutter and beat faster…sigh.

…and not the good corny of a great old Judy Garland musical, but the insipidity of a Lifetime movie for Women (which of course, you have to know that I watch).

I am not that person, guys. That kind of prose doesn’t make my heart beat faster, au contraire, it makes me want to barf. It’s a bit of what I said in my OkCupid profile (by the way, the profile I still like best), you don’t get to this point in life without a little acerbity… a slight tang.

So, I guess this is the point where I regroup, reboot, and reset my goals. I’m not changing my wish list, I’m just going to try to be more open to more types of people. My only insistence continues to be photos and near for LA traffic purposes. The most critical among you cannot quibble with that.

So here is the tote as it stands: still on Match, OkCupid, Zoosk, and Matchmaker, only because I paid very little for three months worth. I have to say, there’s been absolutely nothing on Zoosk or Matchmaker, so I cannot recommend either of them. I have also paid very little to get on Match’s sister site: Chemistry.com. So far this hasn’t yielded much either, not at all impressed.

I have gone on a couple of dates with some Match guys. Drinks with a very nice man at my local Cheesecake Factory (they have a very nice and “happening” bar there during “happy” hour), a long Saturday afternoon with another nice man with whom I even had some chemistry, but it all came to naught, which, as we have learned, is the norm. I think there was another one that was so unmemorable that I don’t remember it.

Nice is so bland, isn’t it. I’m sorry, but I can’t get up the enthusiasm to think of a better adjective. Certainly, no URGE.

I have also been texting with a married guy – an artist who wants me to be his muse. Too whimsical and romantic for my tastes you might think, but it’s, of course, the married part that gets to me. He wanted to meet for a drink but I was honest and said that I wasn’t comfortable meeting with a married man.

I thought that was the end of the matter, but then just last night got a text saying that he couldn’t get me off of his mind. I texted back and said I knew what he meant (One Syllable), but that this sort of a situation was unwholesome and that I was an honorable person who couldn’t conceive that his wife was okay with this. I see nothing today from him.

Summer is a-comin’ in and I think that’s a good time for dates. People are emerging from winter and even spring shadows and are really getting out there, the sun is shining and everything just feels better so I am optimistic.

Must also just mention that I’ve been texting back and forth with another guy who seems to think I’m just the cat’s pajamas, and then he disappears for a week and then comes back. I think I’ve already discussed the attention span of younger guys, so I will refrain. The update to that is that he keeps texting me trying to meet, but we can’t seem to coordinate, which, to me, suggests some kind of ambivalence. I could be wrong about that, as we know I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.

My buddy, Serial Monogamist, has had an experience that most of us girls have had at one time or another. He met a girl that he really liked. She kept tempting him and implying that she was interested to the extent that she took herself off of Match when they met (which I thought rather precipitous) and then would back away, breaking dates and not returning phone calls when he responded. She had work issues, her father was sick, the cat ate her homework, etc., etc.

I have been reading about stuff like this, and what’s interesting is that many women on the dating scene today, for whatever reason, are acting like guys. They are being as elusive, non-committal, aggravating and mystifying. I think it’s a horrible trend. They’re acting like hunters who catch the quarry and throw it back, slightly used but serviceable. Guy behavior!!! That is discouraging!

Speaking of discouraging, did I say I was optimistic? I am, I promise you at the back of my mind, but just for the moment am I allowed a little gloom and just a little lack of enthusiasm? I am a tad dispirited, and it may have to do with allergies or traveling too much or various domestic problems that I won’t bore you all with. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve been at it for a while and I’m still waiting for some magic – talk about over-optimistic!

Well, I promise I will not indulge in this mood for too long.

IN WHICH I DEFEND MYSELF AGAINST THE SELF-ABSORPTION CHARGE or THE URGE

2011-04-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

I am shocked, SHOCKED. (Really taken aback!)

I’ve let one date and some other men read my blog and two of them came back with the charge that I am self-absorbed. I think if you ask most of my friends you will find that this is absolutely not the case. I am one of the least self-centered people I know.

So what is it? I asked one gentleman and after thinking about it for a while he came up with the idea that all I was doing was writing about myself.

IT’S MY BLOG ABOUT MY EXPERIENCES WITH ONLINE DATING! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING ABOUT?? FISH?

All right, I’m calm now. Just had to get it out. Breathe.

Well, as usual I was wrong. I was sure that there would be New Years Resolutions galore. That all were ready to meet their beshert (the one for whom they are destined – how romantic), however, that seems not to be the case. I am now of the opinion that people are hibernating and possibly just opening their eyes and stretching their limbs hoping for a warm summer, so I am once again optimistic…as usual.

I continue to be on Match, however, I have let my subscriptions run out on Matchmaker.com, which was totally useless, hardly better than that free site that shall now go nameless. Oddly enough, my fellow non-blogger is having the most marvelous success on Eharmony, and for me it’s been a total bust so that, too, is now being let go the wayside.

As well, I’m still on OKcupid and am currently just about ready to meet a guy from around my vicinity. It’s so appealing to not have to figure out logistics of long distance things. (One guy from Matchmaker was writing from Colorado, and I just wasn’t up for it. He was going for the old saw that distance doesn’t matter if the connection is there, but why look for trouble? Besides he didn’t post a photo… that’s just a non-starter as far as I’m concerned.)

Continuing the story a few days later, we met for what I now consider my boilerplate date. A Coffee Bean, a sunny afternoon, me purchasing the green tea and a nice guy once again, but no URGE. Now what is URGE?? I will get to that in due course.

I was thinking of joining Zoosk, and about to sign up when I clicked for payment and saw they had the nerve to want to charge me a one-time activation fee. Well, I wrote them in a complete huff and said, waive the fee, pointing out that no one else does this. As I was writing this, lo and behold, they came back with the waiver. Good for them, but really they shouldn’t do it, so if you’re tempted to join the site, tell them you don’t want to pay that particular fee.

Zoosk is a site that I think has some connection to Facebook. It looks to me like a lot of people register on there and flirt away, but don’t pay. If you flirt, they allow you about one message exchange before they want your credit card.

And if someone could answer a question, what is it with these “gifts”? They have those on OKCupid as well, and frankly, I don’ t see the point. You extend an Internet rose. All right I get it, you’re on the Internet you’re hoping to get a relationship from the Internet so why not give Internet gifts?

Why? Because it’s STUPID!! It makes no realistic sense.

Even dumber is that people pay for the privilege of giving that Internet bottle of champagne. You all realize these never materialize they are just pretend.

I despair.

So far on Zoosk, a bit of eye candy. I am slightly but not TOO suspicious that these two may be a case of someone (either spammer, 14 or 15 year old) posting to have fun and be a nuisance. However, we’ll see. I will say in both cases they contacted me. One is a little far down in Huntington Beach and the other one is in Massachusetts.

The Dane in HB says that he’s moving up here in June and wants to know if I like sailing. Remembering that I am, of course, the in-doors type, I said yes though I have a tendency to seasickness. No point putting him off just yet.

The Massachusetts guy has intelligently figured out that the distance may just be too great. He gets lots of credit for such an assessment.

Match is yielding a drinks date sometime at the end of the week. This guy is in great shape – excellent biceps, etc. Yes, I may be shallow, I have already admitted this, but I still don’t think that comes down to self-absorption.

Being a tad defensive here, I will stop now.

No I did not forget. I wish to explain the URGE. I went to London for a Royal History weekend a couple of weeks ago. One excellent speaker talked about a young lady who was a governess to the children of an Arch Duke and a Princess. This was just before the Second World War, and the bulk of the talk concerned this girl’s letters home to her parents. Her descriptions of her life with the Arch Ducal family were quite fascinating and her insights were very frank. In particular it was apparent that she had a crush on said Arch Duke. He had, she explained to her mother, URGE. It’s certainly obvious enough what she was talking about and I hope mom got it.

Have to say I just LOVE this and plan on using it at every opportunity. So much more – well urgent than just saying someone has sex appeal. For me, the only guy these many months that’s had URGE is One Syllable. However, I know more is out there, and I’m going to find it!

IN WHICH THE HOLDING PATTERN SEEMS TO CONTINUE or ONLINE DATING FATIGUE (GASP!!!)

2011-03-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

Does it seem possible to you that with all the enthusiasm I put into this blog (though it has been a while, and I apologize for being out of touch), that I am experiencing a little fatigue, as it were, of online dating. Again, pull yourselves off the floor because the answer is unfortunately yes.

I had a nice two dates with the man who liked my profile on Fitness and though there were nothing wrong with either of us, and certainly, we liked each other, the rest was sort of just what it was. Meaningless, I know, but perhaps descriptive.

I’ve been trudging through the sites, getting myself off a number of them and need to give you the tote board at this point: still on Eharmony, though couldn’t be less impressed, Match has its moments, my old stand-by OkCupid (made even more hip because Julian Assange was once on it!) and Matchmaker, which is proving also to be less than satisfactory. I put myself on that particular site because I had received 99 messages, do you hear??? 99 messages!!! and not one of any interest, either because they were writing from Wales (WHY???) or too young, too old, rode Harley’s, lived in “man-caves” and, not to seem mean-spirited, too dumb. Yes, I know, that was mean-spirited, but for heaven sakes people, SPELL CHECK.

I’m permanently off POF and eVow. I also decided that Jdate, for whatever reason just wasn’t making headway for me. Perhaps, in the future, I’ll consult Yenta the Matchmaker if I really want a Jewish guy.

Which brings me to something pervasive and, frankly, annoying. I’ve written about this before, but now am joining what I hope is the good fight.

Yes, it’s the scammers!

Those guys (or whatever trolls these are) who post attractive, sometimes model like photos, very literate profiles designed to entice and then, when you contact them, write the most alarmingly dumb-ass drivel it has ever been my displeasure to read. In the various different cases, I’m guessing, among other things, that English was NOT their first language, OR it is 14 and 15 year olds spending an amusing Saturday afternoon without parental supervision.

This most recently happened three times on Match. Since I’ve been assiduously reading up on this, I have an excellent idea of what constitutes a phony profile. Let me give you the sad rundown.

Bachelor #1 was very good looking and affable – and charmingly photographed with a cute little dog. However, after I contacted him, the first thing he said is to write to him at his private email. I, knowing this BIG RED FLAG, said I'd prefer to communicate on the site. He also gushed away in the first message, saying things like he must have joined the site just so he could meet me...and that I should take a leap. I've actually heard that before (and not just in Kierkegaard). In his second email he said that he was in England and that he had written in his profile that he was relocating. Uh… NO. Nothing in the profile about living in another country. However, wasn’t I lucky that he’d be moving here in about 5 weeks? Then, again, wanted to get on private email as he was "deactivating" his account that afternoon. Believe it or not, I’ve heard the 5-week number before, so I reported him.

Prospect #2 had a nice look also and a rather sweet profile where he was pictured with his child. When I wrote to him, he GUSHED in such fractured English that I was, to put it mildly, suspicious, since his profile had been written in normal American syntax. I reported him.

Hunk #3 “winked” at me. (Have I mentioned how much I hate “winks”? They are definitely the coward’s way out like “icebreakers”, etc., etc., I scorn them, but I think you know by now I’m a hypocrite. So, yes, I’ve done it.) I looked at his profile and in one sentence he said he was in Afghanistan and in the next in Iraq. He confided in the world that he couldn’t tell us what he was doing there. He also said he was 6'11" and his pictures were date stamped 8 years ago!! I asked him if he was really 6'11" and did he realize his pictures were 8 years old? No answer. I reported him.

I reported these three “profiles” to Match and I was correct ALL THREE TIMES. I know, in this life there is much to be proud of, but being proud of this…well, my friends, it’s what I’ve come to… (sorry about ending that with a preposition!).

All three have been deactivated.

In other news, I keep on a daily habit of perusing the websites. I have tried to write several times a week if not more on each one. However, there have been no dates for a little over a week. Maybe that’s good. Gives me time to catch my breath and be glad it’s getting near Spring. I am optimistic (aren’t I always) that people will emerge from their hibernation soon and wake up to the fact that it’s time to connect.

Can you blame me for feeling some dating fatigue at this point?

IN WHICH A SEEMING DRY SPELL DOES OCCUR or I GUESS I WAS WRONG ABOUT NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS

2011-02-12T13:41:00.000-08:00

January has passed, and honestly, can’t say that I saw a plethora of men resolved to meet their beloved in the coming year. Perhaps they’re waiting for the Chinese New Year and I didn’t get the memo.

Anyhow, the score board is now the following: Am back on eVow temporarily, waiting out this month on the Fitness Site and, yes, in the interest of completely not following my own dictums, I just got on Eharmony – again. My fellow non-blogger, Jane got it from her shoe lady at Neiman’s - she met her boyfriend on Eharmony and they’ve been dating for two years. Again, solid gold advice.

I am very flexible, or perhaps, just without any discernable character.

So the total is: one free site and four paying, with one leaving off at the end of the month.

Phew… anyhow, one more piece of housekeeping before we soldier on…. I have noticed a very sad plague on these sites. More than 50% of these men say they are widowers. While a true widower is nothing to laugh about, what is it with these guys? I’m convinced some of these see this as a high sympathy factor for bagging more babes. Otherwise, women are dying like flies and that doesn’t seem to be the case – at least it wasn’t in the news. I can’t believe that many men in their 40’s and 50’s are widowers. I suppose I could be wrong, but I think it’s odd.

The big report for this entry is that the guy who stood me up called again. He apologized all over the place on my voice mail and I thought, why bother if he really didn’t want to be forgiven. So, I waited a while, Serial Monogamist said to blow him off, but poor SM, I rarely listen to him do I? So, I did call, and we made a date.

Happily, though he is a self-described cross between Howdy Doody and Ron Howard, he was nice enough to treat me to coffee.

Okay, people, pick yourselves off the floor.

We had a nice conversation where he told me that younger guys just want to bag older babes for the gratitude factor. You live and definitely learn. Gratitude, I have found doesn’t go both ways at all. However, as I said we had a nice conversation and I’m going to meet him again for drinks.

Also, met another beachboy. He’s from somewhat further down the coast than One Syllable and we met in Santa Monica in the evening (when I look my best). I thought he was cute however, a little more weathered than I like – that may be the result of spending his weekends playing beach volleyball. We also had a good conversation, and I thought he was into me, but then, he seemed to fade out when he saw my car and found out I had a house.

I think that a woman that seems affluent, or at least fiscally responsible may need to hide it for the first couple of dates. However, it was a nice evening and not a huge loss either way.

Trudging onward.

I’ve been researching and found out many new things. First and foremost, that most people think that PlentyofFish is just about the most execrable site on the internet. There is much complaining about the DOGs on that site. I’ve learned that is an acronym of Desperate Old Guys/Gals. I hope that is not I.

Further, it will no doubt not shock anyone that people put loads of phony profiles on these sites. Naïve of me, but I’m the type who thinks because I’m honest and fairly straightforward that everyone else is going to be. I know they’re not, but I insist that I shall operate as though they are, for my peace of mind and faith in mankind, not for theirs.

Through the R + D, I found a couple of new sites. There’s one that at least seems founded on a sense of humor for people who love British accents. I got on that one, but have to pay to be a full member, and I’m holding off. Then, there is one that is supposed to be the best site after Perfect Match (which I thought, frankly, disastrous), Eharmony (not liking much they keep on sending me “matches” without photos, and to be honest if I can put myself out there, so can they!), and Match.com, which isn’t all that bad. It’s called Matchmaker.com. I went on it, and so far, of course and again, unless you pay, no real results.

And, could someone remind me again why people from Germany and Greenbriar, Arkansas would contact me?

Lo and behold, someone nice has contacted me on the Fitness site. Seems he loved what I said about people on the site. That is, if they didn’t spend as much time tending to themselves as my kitty, I would give them a chance. Since then he’s written me several nice and extremely literate emails. He’s out of town, he says, but it seems that we might actually meet when he returns. In addition, a guy from very close by has contacted me as well. Geographically desirable because of oft-mentioned LA traffic is such a good thing!

Well all seems a little in a holding pattern at this point, perhaps there will be good things to report soon… I’m naïve enough (see above) to hope so!

IN WHICH I LEARN MANY THINGS ABOUT ONLINE ETIQUETTE or SOME PLAYDATES

2011-01-23T15:09:00.000-08:00

Scoreboard: Got off POF… for all it’s a rather a cute name for a dating site, it just doesn’t appeal to me –I can't put my finger on it, but there’s just something faintly unsavory about it. Also, hid my profile on eVow. Less unsavory than its sister site, but nevertheless, I’m just not convinced the clientele on those sites are as serious about this as I am.

So those of you keeping up here, I’m down to 4 sites, and have decided to give up the Fitness one as well when my subscription runs out next month. It’s an odd thing about the Fitness site, though you would think physical activity is so immediate, I’m getting messages from guys all over the world. Don’t really know how we could be running partners. Not bearing fruit, so we don’t waste time we move on.

January has been somewhat productive. Possible meet up with another man of the Emerald Isle in February, actually quite cute, so keep fingers crossed. However, lest we forget our lessons about follow up, deciding to meet up next month is like 10 years in online dating years. However, we are friends on Facebook so I may be able to guilt him into follow through – if, by then, I have any inclination to do so.

Have had some dates to discuss.

The first one was several weeks ago, and sadly a little fraught. Met a producer/ lawyer at my favorite spot, I’ll call him Fish Lips for reasons that will soon become obvious. Got there on time and bought my own libation as usual, sigh, almost forgetting what it’s like to be chivalrously served. Didn’t look like the guy was there and then I saw him sitting outside, looking like he was half asleep and waiting for the bus. He certainly wasn’t anxiously looking for his date.

Thought at least the conversation would be interesting and to be fair it was, but ugh, the odious habits some people have! I was being bright, breezy, entertaining, practicing all my charm skills, basically because I didn’t give a rat’s butt and he was just sitting there, as though in a light coma, saying “riiiiight”, drawing out the word in an almost demented fashion. And when he wasn’t talking, he was breathing in the exact manner of a goldfish, it was nearly disconcerting, and I had to concentrate very hard not to giggle while watching his lips sucking up oxygen, and blowing out invisible bubbles.

That was over again, not quite as quickly as Fire Boy since, as I said, we did have an interesting conversation. He told me some of the movies he’d been involved in, and I did check him out on IMDb. As well, have to say that he posted loads of photographs with himself and political luminaries on his profile -- probably off-putting if you’re in the opposite party or not interested in such things. It also struck me as being nearly as lame as Fire Boy telling me about his party with that 60’s celebrity that I didn’t mention or even remotely care about; but again, to be fair, only nearly.

There is no help for people who can’t stand on their own merits.

Hazarding a guess that you won’t be surprised that since my journey started in June, which is now about 6 months old, I was stood up a second time last weekend. Guy very nice on the phone, seemed eager, called a bunch of times and have to say I didn’t have phone on, but I did return all phone calls. However, he didn’t show up to meet where we had planned. I wasn’t upset, as I said before, how could I be, it’s hardly personal when they’ve never met you.

As Queen Victoria said during the Boer War, (to paraphrase) there is no one depressed here.

The last week has been pleasant. I met a lovely young guy, early 40’s, for a coffee/green tea date in an extremely agreeable locale. Not my usual Coffee Bean but a charming café. I’ll call him John Boy, though luckily he didn’t have the distracting mole on his face (a Walton’s reference for any of you puzzled). Sadly, he was boyish, and I am questing currently for mannish, so it was just a pleasant interlude. However, we got together again for a nice afternoon jaunt in a bookstore and a little window-shopping so not all is horror. And, the youthful injection continues to be a boost to my ego. That, however, may not last long.

Had a great conversation with another of the younger set last night and learned many things that I hadn’t considered. I had made it a rule to answer all queries and emails. Evidently I am completely wrong in this. According to this fellow, whom I’ll call AK41, it’s actually ruder to answer if you’re not interested. My friend, Serial Monogamist, had told this to me initially, but I wasn’t taking his word for it. According to AK41, it’s more hurtful to reply and time wasting as well. So, there blows my theory that people should be as polite online as they are in real life.

He also instructed me that not only are men out to bag babes (his words, about which I found out to my sadness with One Syllable), but evidently, women in their 20’s and 30’s are behaving just as women in my generation did in my 20’s and 30’s – without, I should caution the assurance that no deadly STD’s will be passed about. As someone who worked for an AIDs charity for over thirteen years, I really don’t get this at all. AK41 told me that one woman who had shown interest in him was dating five other fellows, sleeping with two of them and deciding which one had the most money for possible marriage. I am sad to hear about such post-feminist venality.

One last story that doesn’t have anything to do with me is one told by Serial Monogamist. He’s had great success on the dating sites as he’s an attractive man of a certain age. He’s as picky as I am, but doing quite well. Well, a few weeks ago he began dating a tall, blonde lawyer who, after seeing him twice, took herself off of Match. When he told me this, I did think it slightly precipitous, but I thought, whatever – as one does. At any rate, she was supposed to come to his place for dinner, said she had to be in court for several days, didn’t respond to emails, phone calls, then said she’d call and hasn’t done so. Oddly, this sounds like typically male behavior to me. Baffling, bewildering, inconceivable, only begin to describe it.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that not only women suffer this but perhaps it’s a weird product of this unbelievably wacky way of trying to connect with others.

No worries, I press on.

IN WHICH I GREATLY EXPAND MY HORIZONS or MASSIVE JOINING OF OTHER SITES

2010-12-29T10:17:00.000-08:00

It’s official. I’ve taken off the gloves and am throwing more caution to the wind than even before. Is this getting repetitive? Do I continue to inch forward until I have just about teetered over the precipice? Will I soon take leave of my senses entirely? If I do, dear readers, it is not from abject desperation but from grit, single-minded resolve and utter determination.

I have joined a another pay site and am now not only a member of Match, but of FitnessSingles – a site wholly dedicated to people looking for running partners, people with good chests (both male and female), and mostly people who photograph as though they leave their couches periodically.

No, you naysayers, I am not shallow for being on that site. As I say in my brief profile (not much be said!), as long as people don’t spend 98% of their day tending to themselves the way my little cat does, I will happily agree that these are people who care about their health and appearance. I will allow that they eat their Wheaties, exercise and breathe deeply, as well as all those other things that health conscious people appear to do.

Mind you, only if you are naïve enough and new enough to the game to think that those photos are current.

Never fear, I have not left my favorite freebie, OkCupid though, frankly apart from a pen pal in New York, a gentleman who wrote obscene suggestions in Esperanto and a man in New Mexico who insists on telling me bad Jewish jokes and giving me weather reports – I am sad to report that the site has yielded very little.

Oh, and just one thing from Match that got my goat – and the animal metaphor will continue in a second. Get an email from a 75 (!!!) year old guy. Wasn’t sure if he hadn’t written to me before, but he was going to take the chance even though I had said I wanted to go a little younger. I seemed to him too elegant and intelligent to be a cougar. I was so annoyed when I got this. I wrote back and said yes he had written to me, the jerk, and told him to think of it this way... he’s 18 years older than me, does that make him a cougar??? GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

As well, while on the notorious POF, I signed onto an offshoot of said site called Evow for people who are interested in committed relationships, the good ole LTR’s. As if in a Greek Chorus, I hear you cry, get away from POF, but no worries, this one is less horrible than its sister site.

Talk about commitment-phobes, I can’t even commit to one dating site. In the spirit of more being more, I’ve cast my net wider, I went back on Jdate as well. So if you’re keeping score that’s three paying sites, and WTF, un-hid my profile on POF. Eeeeck, general consensus is, I know, but I am maximizing just for these next couple of months with the, I think, intelligent notion that maybe someone somewhere is making a New Years Resolution!

I think that I will have to keep index cards on all of this as my fellow non-blogger Alessa suggested. But as massively as I’m throwing out the net, I realize that the online dating world is getting smaller and smaller. I do see a lot of the same guys on these different sites. I momentarily wonder what they’re doing on so many sites when I remember the mantra, they just wanna get laid. So, I realize that even more caution (you know, that which I just threw to the wind) needs to be exercised.

Not to mention continuing to want a do-over with One Syllable.

So now that you are aware of how utterly pathetic I am, read on anyway.

I had been out of town for about a week and already the maximum exposure was garnering results. Several guys on the Fitness site thought I was in excellent shape, a 40 year old on Match thought I was dangerously beautiful. Yes, I promise, I ain’t falling for it, though it does fall trippingly and most pleasantly upon the ear. Even dreadful POF was active, although to be honest was not particularly enthused about going on there a lot. But the sister site Evow seems quite fruitful.

Like everything else, though, what I had predicted from the beginning continued to be true. Most of the contacts were one to two emails. It seemed as though they just wanted to get their toes wet and then jump back.

With one person I’ll call Tanning Bed Guy for a really unhealthy irradiated look, I was thinking about how I wanted to respond. I’ve made it a rule that I will respond out of common courtesy though my serial monogamist friend had told me that there was no need to answer queries in which I wasn’t interested. Such boorishness is not in my character. I simply wouldn’t be as dismissive as many are since I think that the Internet isn’t a license to be impolite or cruel. However, because I had taken longer than he liked, Tanning Bed blasted me for being rude.

I didn’t take this personally either, and told him he had to grow a thicker skin. Then I got a long sob story about the death of his father (which I could relate to) and how he wasn’t doing as well as he thought. I started doing my usual thing, which is to soothe, and realized I’m not this guy’s therapist or his mother. Compassion I will certainly give, but the next email wanted more, and I thought – NO.

I believe and hope that January will be interesting as I think I’m really right about the New Years Resolution thing. So until then, Happy New Year to everyone who has been kind enough to read my blathering. I am an optimist and think that 2011 will yield all kinds of treats!

IN WHICH I AM MADLY DASHING AROUND TRYING TO APPEAR BUSY AS THE HOLIDAYS APPROACH or DRY SPELL

2010-12-08T12:01:00.000-08:00

I cheerfully acknowledge that I haven’t had a date in weeks. I say this cheerfully because there is no other way to say it.

I have been busy communicating and saying hello, people respond and then let it go as I predicted they would, but I am determined. I am not discouraged, and anyway what’s the point? The sidewalks will soon be closing up here in LA. It’s a known fact that no one can manage to do anything here for virtually the entire month of December.

But I go on, I persevere.

I am busy pursuing volunteer opportunities, even inspired to get into macho fields of law enforcement or the fire department because of the basic philosophy -- go where the men are. Oddly, I’ve spent so many years in the halls of academia, and have to say that that hasn’t exactly been a treasure trove of dating possibilities – au contraire. The only ones that seemed to want to date me were my students, and I wasn’t prepared for that particular infraction, flattering though it was at times. And no, I don’t think they were doing it because they wanted a better grade. I’m an easy grader anyway.

So the day goes and lo and behold, a communication from Match. Fireboy, I’ll call him, wants to get together. Seems articulate enough wrote self-effacing emails, and featured himself in fire fighting gear, though he is not a firefighter per se. I said to myself okay, I’m sort of liking this type: a little brawn some brains but nothing too challenging, and so I bite.

Another admission here and don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.

After a couple of emails, I get impatient because it’s either meet or begin writing an autobiography, and frankly, it never pays off as far as I can tell. I begin with interesting details about myself and then when I meet these guys, not only haven’t they read it, but even if by some fluke they have taken the time, it is painfully obvious that they have not digested the more fascinating minutia, and are certainly not ready for testing.

Fireboy sends me his number, I send him mine, then I let him call so that I can hear his voice. Oh! woe is me, not that velvet chocolaty voice of One Syllable – sadly that is rare, I’m beginning to find. However, pleasant enough and I suppose, worth me returning the call when I feel like it.

Which I do, a decent interval later.

This one was trying to impress me with facts such as he had been in the Fire Station in my area, and had been to a holiday party there with, yes, __________________ (fill in 60’s celebrity name) … not that I asked. One very solid rule about LA is that people here are cool about celebrities, and we certainly don’t try to impress each other with knowing this one or that one.

We agree to meet and I get off the phone and, folks, I’m just not feeling it. He isn’t the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, and I had a suspicion he wasn’t hiding that light under a bushel either.

However, I am dogged and unwavering.

As much as I don’t really want to go, I do go. It’s yet a third coffee bean… LA is full of ‘em. There’s even another couple behind us in line also meeting for the first time. I buy my own tea – he doesn’t even offer, but I always feel better doing this, so they don’t expect something in return. In return, I hear you cry, is this a barter situation? You just never know, do you??

Okay so not attracted to him from the get-go. However, I am firm in my intention that he will at least enjoy the short time we spend together -- very short. We sit outside as it is still nice and sunny and I begin to question him as I feel that if I don’t, I’ll have to finish up my tea in the car going home.

I find that the easiest opener is to ask them about their experiences on Match or other dating sites. I find they like a sympathetic listener and love to complain about all the lies they were told before meeting some unfortunate woman or other.

I do so, and get to listen to the fact that he has unashamedly been on Yahoo personals for six years. He has, he confided to me, dated an actress, though, he added, she won’t remember him. (Believe me, I won’t remember him tomorrow, either.) He told me how one person had stood him up, so I encouraged him with my story of the ill-fated luncheon. He seemed outraged about the fact that he ended up paying for a meal for another woman, and dubious about her promise to pay the next time. Obviously, there wasn’t going to be a next time. Hence, I am penalized, I realize, with having to foot the bill for my own tea. Perhaps, the woman was depressed that they met at Four and Twenty Pies – not, in my estimation the coolest of dating destinations.

He asks me nothing about myself.

While he is talking, I notice the dirty fingernails and worse the fact that he is looking at his watch first. I feel free, then, to start wondering when I can end our obvious mutual agony. Luckily, it seems that his meter was in danger of running out, and we said goodbye. With great relief I called my fellow (evidently) non-blogger, Jane and said with a huge giggle in a high school voice, “OMG, he was SO boring.”

Sad how we revert, isn’t it?

IN WHICH I DATE MANY PEOPLE or ENTR’ ACTE

2010-11-23T13:02:00.000-08:00

Now that it was actually necessary for me to write a profile, I wanted to write one that was interesting, alluring, showed how involved I was in countless different and exciting activities and of course one that would show all my sterling character traits.

There are so many.

This profile had to captivate, it had to exude charm and be glamorous as well as showing me to be very down to earth. It had to show that I was as good in jeans as I was in a cocktail dress (this is said ALL THE TIME), and it had to show that I was mysterious, appealing as well as a good sport ready to pitch a tent in the middle of the wilderness – in other words, a fair impossibility.

The photos were there for that, I hear you cry, but, no, I want to convey more than just outer… the outer had made me too impetuous, and frankly, had me act completely out of character. I explain it away as a result of too many chick flicks and too many cheerleading friends who were saying go for it. Sorry, that sounds like I’m not taking responsibility for my behavior, but I totally am.

We won’t dwell.

I took my time, tried to use my wit, the questions on the profile were as good as these things can be. (I’m still of the opinion that no one really reads the profiles, they look at the photographs, full stop.) The questions weren’t really intrusive since nothing today is intrusive. In a society where people are ready to admit on television that they molested their pet monkeys, certainly no one would balk at questions like “what’s the most private thing you’ll admit”, “name six things you can’t live without” or “what do you think about all the time”.

Honestly, I mostly wonder if time travel is possible, but I also wonder if that is something one should admit in a dating profile. Nevertheless, I wrote on fearlessly, used quotes from many movies, chick flicks once again, and decided very definitely to be proactive. Luckily, in none of the profiles I read was there a mention of a pet monkey, so I was safe.

However, prepare yourselves for a confession.

I decided to maximize my computer and got on a pay site. Yes, I know what I said about paying for non-follow-through as opposed to not paying for it, but, I got caught in the silly idea if they were paying they might be more serious and possibly even consistent. I quickly learned the ugly truth which was there is very little difference in the level of commitment.

I had a luncheon date with a guy who was going to drive out from Ventura, his choice. I waited, waited, waited, called, waited, and he didn’t show, and never explained. Somehow this was all hard to take personally, and you’ll be glad to know I didn’t. I went back to the site and blocked him. However, it was all beyond perplexing. Behavior like this makes the secrets of the universe seem elementary.

My next encounter was a very sweet young guy in his 30’s who told me that his fiancée, who had been killed in a car crash, was older than I. You can’t make this stuff up folks. Anyhow we had a nice cup of coffee together while he told me he was still living with his parents and was about to go on disability. Uh – no.

I would have opted out of Match after a month had not my fellow bloggers (and you will hear from them at some point, they are busy having lives) not urged me to stay on the site on which they were currently residing.

Well, back to business. I began my search, slightly younger as I’ve said but put the range through to my age just to be fair. I looked through profiles, and honestly, how many bare-chested men and mug shots can anyone look through? I have learned that men don’t seem to worry as much about flattering photographs as women. If they are vain, they show their toned chests without shirts (this may be a California thing, but I’ve seen enough of it to think it might be a trend). Otherwise, they are frowning at the camera, hair often uncombed, doing some undefined activity – not the pleasurable shopping experience many of you may think.

We won’t discuss spell-check.

As well, have to tell you there are spammers on Match who call themselves something different put up the same pictures, or picture of male models and say the exact same things about themselves in several profiles. Why they want to do this is anyone’s guess. Their estimation of the average intelligence on this site was a little discouraging.

I, myself, got contacted by the same guy with two different names, who wanted my email address right away so he could write to me privately. The excuse is that they are soon going off the site (in other words, they were using a FREEBIE!). I’m ashamed to say that I fell for this exactly twice.

One guy said he was in Afghanistan and was a Lt. Colonel. Initially, with the photos he sent, it sounded fairly legit and he was halfway attractive, so I thought I’d do my bit for God and Country and correspond with him. However, his letters got lamer and lamer, as though English wasn’t his first language. He told me that his child (he was supposedly divorced) was with his lawyer in England. Why? Who the hell knows? Eventually he became very angry with me for asking questions and googling him as he said he didn’t want anyone in his business…I not sure where that might have placed me.

Several days later, I got virtually the same email under a different name with the same exhortation to write him at a private email address. This time I got smart and reported it to the powers-that-be who promptly took both of them off of the web site.

In the midst of these struggles, I did date about two different guys from the Cupid Site and a couple from Match. They were nice pleasant men, some young, some older, but sadly in all cases there was just no chemistry.

That elusive element that I captured on my first try I simply haven’t repeated in the several months since. I know it’s rare, and I know I was lucky and one of my girlfriends said that some people never feel that. I don’t feel lucky, though. I feel that the fates were rather unkind to me to give me that taste and then snatch it away. It is as Hugh Grant said in Notting Hill: I feel like I was given love heroin and I can never have it again.

IN WHICH I SILENTLY PRAY FOR A “RE-DO” OR CODA GRAVE E SERIOSO.

2010-11-15T15:40:00.000-08:00

I made a capital error, as Mr. Rochester might say. In the short attention span of dating (or is it the short attention span of younger men?), I left town. I had the trip scheduled for months and we know that these days airlines will have you killed if you try to change or cancel a ticket. So, I went out of the country for two and a half weeks. How was I to know that would spell the death knell of the great affair I was preparing to have (IN MY HEAD!)?

I texted One Syllable when I came home and was immediately brushed aside with the news that he had guests for the weekend. At the time ready to swallow any line, I was, nevertheless, chomping at the bit. I had enough self-restraint to wait until the weekend was over, but eager to see the man, I texted and he texted and I flirted and he flirted.

I wasn’t suspicious or aware of any slackening of emotion. How could there be… what about all those fulsome compliments? What about that mighty attraction? Surely if someone says things like that to you, they mean them? Those thoughts and feelings don’t dissipate just because you’ve been absent without leave for a short time.

Well, you can all intuit the sorry end of this experiment in living happily in the fantasy world, called by my fellow blogger, Jane, ILANALAND. I will spare you, gentle reader, the details since I resolved when writing this blog, to say only things my Grandma Gussie would be able to read (of course Grandma Gussie and I went to see Women in Love and a host of “R” rated films together, but nonetheless….).

I did see him one more time, some wishes were fulfilled, but it was an odd encounter at best and we shall draw a discreet, gauzy veil on the episode. I will say that younger men seem less clued in about the feminine psyche than older ones. Of course that isn’t always true, but let us just say that it was true in these circumstances.

He later emailed me that he had met someone from the Old Neighborhood, and though there were “red flags” (red flags you say?), he was going to be patient. Do I hear all the collective groaning? Yes, of course I do. What happened to “dating, nothing serious”? Obviously, a lame excuse to get rid of poor bewildered and thoroughly bamboozled me. A few more emails passed between us, I was puzzled and hurt (REALLY HURT).

Nevertheless, in the middle of that mystifying, wholly dissonant situation, another dating opportunity presented itself. I don’t want all of you to get depressed, and so we’re moving on.

Yet another young buck presented himself and claiming interest in the mature woman, wanted to meet. I now kinda liked the idea of a younger man. I wasn’t feeling this in a cougar, predatory sort of way since predatory is about the last descriptor anyone would use for me. (In passing, why does “cougar” have a negative connotation while if a 60 year old man gets jiggy with a 25 year girl old it’s all “atta-boy”?) Editor’s note: for the record, I have nothing at all against cougars; it’s just not my style.

For me, it was that visual thing again. Guys in their forties and early fifties just didn’t look as decrepit as the men my age were looking – this with the possible exception of Richard Dean Anderson or Harrison Ford.

This candidate was a year or so older than One Syllable. I had seen him around on the various dating sites in the past, we were going to meet up, we almost did, we talked and then nothing ever happened. But this time, I wanted to get though my sincere disappointment and pushed it.

Really, we’re MOVING ON.

Met again at my favorite coffee place (but a different branch) no reminders, my friends, and I got myself some green tea and a scone and just waited. I admit that normally I try to be a little late so that the guy is there before me, but he was slightly tardy (sorry, that from my school teacher days). But I was up for a new wind to blow…another shot across my bow, climbing that mountain top that would make me forget, and…jeez getting a little carried away here.

He walked in and UGH. I’m sorry but major UGH. Shirt out, jeans baggy, some kind of golfing or perhaps what they used to called a driving hat on head and a face broken out in some kind of indescribable yet not deadly rash. I don’t blame him for the rash, that isn’t his fault (unless of course it was caused by some awful lack of hygiene, but I was sitting across from him, downwind I should think, so I don’t know). I will say this: he was a complete slob, looked like he had just rolled out of bed and hadn’t taken the slightest trouble to doll up for date with “absolutely beautiful” his words. At least now I didn’t believe that stuff.

REALLY WE’RE MOVING ON.

Nothing there, unsurprisingly; there was nada chemistry not a dash, not a soupcon, not a scintilla (this is all terribly multilingual). We had a pleasant chat; we each waited for our turn to talk (oh, just so you know, One Syllable didn’t do much of that…I was waiting for him to say “just the facts ma’am”). Slob asked me a question about what we’d talked about at the end of the evening, and frankly, it had fascinated me so not at all I forgot and probably answered incorrectly. So, once again, very unsurprisingly, there was nothing said about meeting again.

MOVING ON.

I admit to some intermittent backsliding, some blue days, some days when I wanted to email, text, call, send smoke signals, ANYTHING to One Syllable. But, I was strong, and eventually, I really did stop hurting. I still think about him, but I have, for the most part, MOVED ON.

Took myself very quickly off of POF, especially when I saw that he had also done so. I was rooting around his profile in my backsliding days, still looking at his complimentary messages and texts, but forced myself to get back on the horse.

My cousin recommended that I get on another free site called www.okcupid.com. He said that there was a somewhat better selection process, (read a selection process); that people were asked questions which they could choose to answer or not and suggested matches (known as Quiver Matches, sigh) were gleaned from those questions. Since I was still determined not to pay for the non-follow through, I took a look. I thought it seemed like a classier site than POF (actually, anything, including porn, would be a classier site than POF) and got busy.

IN WHICH I FINALLY TAKE THE PLUNGE AND MEET SOMEONE or EARLY COGNITIVE IMPAIRMENT

2010-11-10T09:42:00.000-08:00

It felt really great. I was getting lots of feedback from the talent on POF. There was much praise for my sexiness, beauty, intellect, etc., all of these sterling character traits obviously gleaned from the photos. Hence, from such enthusiasm, came many pleas to meet up.

I received a lovely message from a 27-year-old guy who informed me that he was well hung, clean, disease-free and ready for anything NSA. No, all you policy wonks, that doesn’t stand for National Security Act, I later found out it’s another dating-internet acronym. It means, “no strings attached”. I wrote him back and said how charming I thought his letter was NOT…in actuality I wrote him back and said, perhaps it was a generational thing, but I thought he was just a tad crude. I expected rudeness and acute defensiveness back and was pleasantly surprised when he wrote that he just wanted to be honest and straightforward. I thanked him for his offer and said I’d keep him posted.

I was amazed and gratified at the amount of attention I was getting from younger guys… they were the most effusive in their praise and, you guessed it, my ego was massaged and my susceptibility to flattery was on high alert.

May I just state here that you forget?

If you haven’t dated in a while and you’ve watched too many chick flicks…the sincerity that Tom Hanks had for Meg Ryan or even Seth Rogen for Katherine Heigl, is really quite missing in real life. You forget the games that people play in their quest to allure, and how you’re supposed to respond to those games, how much you’re supposed to believe and how much you’re supposed to laugh off. I formally admit and confess that I believed, something like Natalie Wood at the end of Miracle on 34^th Street. I forgot it was just bait from the preying mantis, which in this case, and possibly in the interest of avenging all males in the insect world, was going to eat me when it was done having its way with me.

But I digress. I lied. The first guy wasn’t the 27 year-old with the sincere proposition; it was another – one sworn to protect and to serve with slightly more subtlety and in his early forties. He put the hard sell on max and had all the visual attributes as well as an unusually sexy and deep chocolaty voice.

Initially I was evasive, after all, he was young, and as stated, I wanted someone who remembered the 60’s, not born at the end of them. He was the outdoorsy type, and I am definitely a hothouse flower who thrives on indoor activities, such as watching my TiVo, using my laptop and eating marshmallows by the bag. He was action man, and I, except for doing the exercise tapes in front of my TV, was somewhat less kinetic.

Ego won over and I agreed to that lowest key of all meetings: The coffee date in a public place. After said agreement, I finally read to the end of his profile, I recommend reviewing profiles before your first encounter, then you can avoid such gaffes as: asking them about their ex-wives if they’re widowed, or seeing the BIG RED FLAG where he wrote that he didn’t want a relationship, just dating nothing serious. In passing, why would you just want to date? Is there anything fun about this? Oops, yeah, I forgot, that’s man-speak for “I just wanna get laid”.

So, to get to the exciting part of the story – we met at a local coffee bean. He was a manly man, not pretty but tall, built, sexy, and had a one-syllable name. My heart beat faster, I became giddy, tongue-tied and experienced something I hadn’t experienced in years… major ATTRACTION. And…it was mutual. Ahhhhhh…. At least so he said with his “you’re absolutely beautiful” and “you don’t look your age at all.” In passing, can that be a turn-on for men looking for older women? Isn’t the point TO look your age??

We texted back and forth, he said really nice things to me – in texts… everything I could possibly want to hear and then some. I was totally and utterly euphoric, sucked in, swept away, walking a couple of feet off the ground and completely forgot the “dating nothing serious” angle. When I asked him about this, he said that it was because of his schedule. That was very easy to believe in his line of work.

I must also just say that feeling this was wonderful. It was a blissfully heightened state of awareness as though one was really in one’s life – not, as John Lennon said, busy making other plans; more in the moment than usual. I think this is what a lot of people mean by love at first sight, but of course it wasn’t, I knew at the time it wasn’t, it was acute infatuation, but, brothers and sisters, it felt beyond fantastic.

Contrary to his demanding schedule (and I googled him and so knew that he was who he said he was) we saw each other three times in one week, and I completely disregarded the “dating and nothing serious” angle.

(I now recite this like a mantra, that and READ THEIR PROFILE UNTIL THE END. Contrary to the awful communicators men are supposed to be, I’ve learned that they do say what they mean, especially if there’s any chance that some silly, utterly ignorant, susceptible female thought they might want a longer term relationship than say, as above, “I just wanna get laid.”)

I busied my very active imagination thinking of ways and means to let this completely different person in my life. Would he like my mother? Would he get along with my brother (would anyone get along with my brother?)? Would he be kind to my Golden Retriever, and could he stand meeting the odds and ends of my family and friends at a 4^th of July barbeque? I didn’t have us married (as I used to do in my 20’s and 30’s) but I did have us having a long and satisfying affair.

In short, I did everything wrong.

In which we get started down the road to ruination (or coffee date, one or the other)

2010-11-02T09:56:00.000-07:00

So, I came to a decision. It wasn’t an easy one, but this time I decided to do it. I wouldn’t joke about it, I wouldn’t shrug my shoulders even once, I wouldn’t lie about it, and I would just get off my ass and do it. It was time. I’m fifty-seven and it’s not the biological clock that is ticking but the clock that says you want to find someone before it’s too late period.

But how do you do it in LA? Everyone complains about how hard it is to meet people here. People sit in their cars, they eat in their cars, they put on their makeup in their cars, they have sex in the their cars, well, to put it another way, they do everything in their cars. However, cars are not viable social mediums – nor are movie theaters, nor are supermarkets (all rom-coms to the contrary), nor anywhere else in this city. And if you’re my age, you don’t really go to clubs with twenty somethings hoping to even meet any guys even in their forties.

So, sadly, it was the other thing, online, the Internet, the World Wide Web, this was to be the only outlet, especially for someone who was intrinsically shy and always had problems breaking the ice. Now, mind you, I’ve tried all of this before, I’ve been on Perfect Match, I’ve been on Jdate, I’ve been on Match, I’ve been on Eharmony, but I’m being very honest, I really didn’t want to change my life enough to take any of it seriously. I’d let guys contact me, I’d hesitate, I’d evade, I’d not give out my number, I’d email them to death, and mostly nothing much would happen. So I had the illusion of doing something while doing nothing.

Well, that wasn’t my goal this time. I wanted the support of a genuine male, I wanted to touch one, hear one, see one, smell one, jump all over one…in short, I desperately needed testosterone in my life.

So, at the recommendation of a close friend, I tried PlentyOfFish.com. It is a free site, he told me, and his ex-girlfriend found her new boyfriend on this site. Well, he’s serial monogamist with all his bases covered in the web realm and his advice was definitely solid gold. I figured why not just get on a free site with no follow-through then pay for a site with no follow-through.

With such optimism, I soldiered on. I filled out the profile. Oh, and on POF (as the aficionados call it) there isn’t much to fill out. Which was probably best, as I had somewhat recently spent at least 45 minutes filling out the 29 dimensions of compatibility with Eharmony, and none of those questions asked you about physical attributes. The thing to know about me is that I’m shallow. I’m not attracted to bald, short Nobel Prize winners, I’m just not. There is probably an entire constellation of women in this world who are, but I’m not one of them. Also, I am interested in men who attract me on a physical level. For me, if it’s not happening there, it probably won’t happen period. You’re all saying to yourselves, that’s why she’s not with someone or married at her age, and you may be right, but it’s not something I can seem to change.

Also, it was important to me that I find someone roughly in my age group. I wanted someone who could relate somewhat to the same things I did. I wanted someone who could remember the Kennedy Assassination or the advent of the Beatles, and remembered what the sexual revolution of the 60’s and the disco era of the 70’s was about. At least, they could remember the shame -- not of the sexual revolution but disco….

So with these few requirements, I filled out the questionnaire. I said yes to the fact that I had a car, though I wonder why…possibly for the sex that I mentioned before. I said I was looking for a long-term relationship (LTR in internet lingo), they ask for your age, height, your body type, and for you to make some sort of short statement about yourself. (May I say right here and now that the following I know to be true: men lie about their age and height and women lie about their age and weight.) More important than even this brief rigmarole that no one was going to read were the photos. You have to think about the impression you are making, especially since POF doesn’t seem to really edit the photos unless someone complains about someone taking a shot of their own penis for their profile pic.

I chose my photos carefully. I was quite positive I wanted to create a certain impression. I wanted everyone to see how young I looked. (Oh, again, everyone says how they don’t look their age. It’s rather sad when you think about it in our youth-oriented world. People seem to think there is something shameful about not having died before they got old, as the Who wanted us to do. So, therefore, I have said in my profiles that I don’t look my age. Who wants to swim upstream?) There is a full body shot, me in all my nicely worked out glory. There is a close up with me in a low cut blouse so everyone can inspect my boobs. There is an old author photo of me, since my friend Judy has told me that author photos are forever, and another one of me fully –clothed clutching a wrap-sweater, and looking seriously, might I add, even soulfully at the camera. Ilana in all her moods.

So, I said to myself and the four winds, WTF (more internet lingo that I don’t feel like translating), and I posted that comprehensive and complicated look into my soul and sent it into the ether, the void or perhaps, just perhaps, to love.