In Jeans or a Dress: Misadventures in Online Dating

Jan. 2, 2004: An embarrassment of Riches

2005-06-29T18:23:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here shivering and drenched in sweat. My nylon running pants stick to my legs, and my cotton t-shirt clings to my back. Unfortunately, though, I haven't worked out since yesterday afternoon. This condensation is the result of merely walking around the neighborhood running errands. True, it's 50 degrees outside, but I fear it's more symptomatic of becoming sick. Now that I'm back home, I don't feel so feverish (more chilled, actually, and achy, which probably aren't much better), but I can tell a bad cold is settling in, and the timing is bad—tonight is my second date with Joe.

He called me yesterday around 4:30pm. He hadn't replied to the email I sent him on New Year's Eve, so I of course was resigning myself to being blown off again. But, no—he's picking me up tonight, and we're going to an Italian restaurant in Lakeview, Lucca's. I looked it up online, and the reader reviews are glowing, using words like intimate, charming, and even romantic. I tried to check out the Zagat's rating because Joe said he used the Zagat's guide to find it, but you need a subscription to access the review. I wanted to see if Zagat's called it romantic—it'd be nice if Joe looked for that quality when selecting a place. We didn't make plans for after dinner. Possibly drinks back at my place?

I don't want to cancel, so I've popped some Day-Quil and will take some more as dinner approaches—with a couple drinks, I could be an especially fun, or noodle-like, date. I wouldn't want to cancel and seem like I was canceling as passive-aggressive revenge for his earlier cancellation, or, more accurately, postponement, plus I really want to see him. I'm dying to find out if I get that same feeling I had the first time we met. And it's been too long—more than three weeks.

On the other hand, I'm seeing the impending illness as a wonderful excuse to cancel with Alan for tomorrow night. I sent him an email on New Year's Eve, too—just some fluff about his alma mater's bowl game—and he hasn't responded. Maybe he's realizing he deserves a little more excitement on his date's part. If I do cancel, I hope I have the guts to do it by phone, not email.

Rich in EH sent his must-haves and can't-stands. His must-haves include "a partner who is committed to marriage, home, and family.” As I've said before, I read that as wanting kids. I like his short-answer questions, though; he didn't use any off the provided list. Instead, he asked about my New Year's and if I made any resolutions; which CDs are in my player right now; and which vacation has been the most meaningful. The first two are easy enough—didn't do much on NY Eve and watched "Sex and the City" and "Sopranos" DVDs on the Day. My CD player still has Christmas CDs, but I listed the other CDs piled around it—Petty, Phantom, Lovett, Sinatra, Cat Stevens. I'm so eclectic. I think he’s under the impression I'm more into music than I really am, but whatever—no need to bother clearing that up at this point. The travel question is more difficult. I wrote of my trip to the Pacific Northwest, and also said I'd like to return to Kauai with a date. Europe demands a return trip in the next few years—I haven't been there since law school in Italy in '92.

I looked back at the basic profile on Rich and realize that music is important to him, so maybe I do need to clear up that misunderstanding. He's playing a guitar (apparently to his dog) in one photo and writes that he loves playing the guitar and writing and singing his own lyrics. Uh, oh—another serenader? Looking back at my own profile, though, I see no mention of music, so I don't know where he got the impression I'm a big music fan. In my short-answer questions for Rich, I asked just that, admitted music isn't a big part of my life, and wondered if that'd be a problem. I also asked if the kid thing would be a deal-breaker and, taking a more gentle tack, asked about his favorite memories from 2003.
***
Rich responded within an hour or two, and I have to say his answers are well done. As far as the music issue, he pointed to my karaoke photo (I forgot it was posted on EH) but went on to say he doesn't think couples need to share every interest. He added: "You must be cool if you have a Sinatra CD." If he only knew I purchased it in tandem with an Alanis Morrissette CD. On the kid issue, he said he realized when he turned 40 that he might not have kids and "that is OK." He elaborated, echoing some of my thoughts on the topic:

"Even if I met the right person today it would likely be years before we decided to have children and I can think of many reasons not to have children at the age of 43 or 44. I would love to travel more, retire early, and have more time with my partner so it is not a deal-breaker for me. In fact it may be a small relief that having children would not be required … "

Gotta admire his honesty, and that he's thought it out, in terms of age and consequences. And early retirement always sounds good.

Finally, he lists several favorite memories for 2003, including a party with friends, adopting his dog, and traveling to San Francisco. "I wish I had asked you that question," he wrote. I agree it's a decent question, one that I'll have to remember for the future, if I continue on EH. My subscription ends Jan. 12, and it's pretty pricey, considering how little success it's brought me.

Anyway, Rich and I have moved to stage 4—open communication. I would initiate it, but I'm going to wait a bit. I don't feel inspired right now.

I'm already debating sending Alan a cancellation email today. If it goes well with Joe tonight, I won't want to endure another date with a guy who hasn't interested me at all in two meetings. If it goes poorly with Joe, I'll probably be bummed out and just want to mope. Maybe I'll be fired up to have a good time with another guy in a misguided attempt to spite him, but I doubt it.

Dec. 31, 2003: New Year reprieve

2005-06-27T09:50:00.000-05:00

EH sent me two new matches yesterday. Michael, 39 and from Streamwood, shut me down before I got a chance to look at his stats. The other, Rich from Arlington Heights, requested communication. He's 40 but looks older in his photos, with gray hair and goatee. He's a computer geek, but his passion apparently is writing and playing music. He also reads a lot, plays racquetball, and kayaks. One of the things he can't live without is ice cream, and he claims he's living proof that nice guys don't finish last. I like that—he seems positive and happy. Can't hurt to answer his questions, I guess.

Alan has replied to my latest email. He mentioned that the Cowboys play their first playoff game Saturday night, so we might need to watch that instead of a movie. Fine with me, though not exactly romantic. At least, we'll have something to talk about. I played his message in reply to my "sex email" for some of my friends last night. Several times, actually. I think it's fair to say they enjoyed it. Maggie was close to tears.

Ken41midway from Match wrote again, too. He thinks we could hit it off. I think not. And Yahoo had another repeat Icebreaker—leinonmysoul, the 29-year-old East Indian. He mentions in his profile that he doesn't like "mean people." How unusual.

No word from Joe since Saturday. Maybe I can drop a quick "happy new year" email and see if he responds with details on Friday night? He sent me a "happy holidays" message on Christmas Eve, so this wouldn't be too out-of-the-blue. Plus, if he's backing out, I'd rather know sooner than later.

Haven't heard from Tim, the Cub fan who was coming back to town Sunday, or Chris from EH. So it goes. I wouldn't have time for them this week, anyway.

Predictably, MM is trying to woo me back, offering another month for $4.95. I could get another three months for $19.95; it was $29.85 for my first three months. I may re-up. God knows my friends (and even one of their boyfriends) got some yucks from BMALE's email, and who am I to deprive them of the possibility of more laughs? I don't know about three whole months, but I guess I may as well go for it if it's only $20. A small investment for a lifetime of happiness. Ri-ight.
***
Rich responded—he wants two kids. I sent him my must-haves and can't stands, including I must have someone who share my desire not to have children.

So, it's New Year's Eve. I was invited to two parties and had reluctantly planned to go to the closer event, where I'd know more people. I suspect it'll be couple-heavy, though, and I've never been much for all the New Year's Eve hoopla (perhaps because I never have anyone to kiss at the stroke of midnight?), so I'm blowing it off. Instead, I'm heading up to Winnetka, where my friend and her husband and baby from New Jersey are housesitting. We'll order in, drink some high balls, and maybe play some board games. Nice and low key, with minimal ruminating about the year that has passed and what the new year will hold.

Dec. 29, 2003: An indecent proposal

2005-06-24T09:53:00.000-05:00

Well, Alan and I are on for Saturday night. In his confirmation email, he remarked on the day's football games and said that he'd pick up a movie and come over. No mention of sex or "clicking," thankfully.

Today is my last day as a MM subscriber, and I have three emails, including another from NEVERTELL, the unhappily married guy looking for a long-term affair. He uses the same subject line—"u"—he must think it endearing.

One of the others is from an NRA member in Detroit, one of those guys who describes himself as having "very good looks" but neglects to put his money where his mouth is by posting a photo. Where the profile asks "what brought you here," he chose the response "Scouting around for people to do things with." In Chicago? At least in his email, he writes he wished he lived closer. Whatever.

FUNGUY862 writes that my profile and photos caught his eye. I think his email is boilerplate because that's the extent to which he references my profile. He writes that he likes running and biking, so I'll earn extra points if I like either activity. If he read my profile, he'd know I run—I mention it at least once, possibly twice. Plus, he's 5'9"-5'10".

Good Lord! Another MM email just came in, this one totally enticing. I mean, filthy. It's captioned with "Can you imagine?" How fitting that it arrives on my last day on MM:

"I would love to meet you at the Fairmont hotel downtown. I would insist that you cum [such clever wordplay] with no panties on and a long coat with nothing on underneath. You would meet me at the sports bar right next to the lobby. Without any conversation you would simply walk up to me and say 'are you ready'? At this point we would proceed up to the top floor and walk around to the stairway and walk up two addition flights. There we would see a dark room, which is the broiler room. During this adventure I haven’t said one word to you. You are simply following me knowing at some point we will be sexually intertwined. I turn to you and unbutton your long coat only to see those nice ass tits beaming in my face. I caution myself to take my time because looking at this body…………..poetry has just been put in motion so I must handle your body like a precious jewel. I start by pulling you towards me and touching your lips with my fingers while you close your eyes and slowing suck as if you are auditioning for the anticipated moment of sucking my cock. My lips touch yours and we are both highly impressed with the tongue technique and the soft lips. My hands go through your hair and I start kissing your neck slowing turning you around. Your head goes back and you reach back and grab my long hard cock and start to stroke it. At this point I ask you 'would you like to go to a room'? You reply with 'yes'!

Once in the room, I have already set up candles. The room is dark and I tell you to lie on the bed face down. I start perusing your body with me tongue and nibbling on back of your neck again for a few minutes before moving down your spine until I reach the crack of your ass. I then tell you to slightly lift your ass to the sky maintaining your chest on the bed………………….your knees slightly move upward and your ass is pointing to the sky. I then whisper to you 'spread your legs and place both hands on your ass checks and open your ass'. When you accommodate my wishes, you are telling me 'please be gentle, and make me feel extremely good'! I typically have strawberry ice cream, ice or whip cream ready to go into battle. I start by moving my tongue from the top of your ass crack down to the point of entrance of your ass. Making your ass extremely wet while simultaneously placing a small hidden vibrator on your clit. So while you are getting your ass licked with ice cream or whip cream, you are also about to reach orgasm. I start to rotate from licking your ass to licking your clit. At this point we are in the 69 position.

Would you like me to continue?

I can send a picture upon request!"

Where to start? At least he has good taste in hotels, but strawberry ice cream? C'mon (or should I say "Cum on"?)—go with chocolate or maybe fudge ripple. I'm also intrigued by the broiler room—can I get a steak as part of this fantasy? Am I the only one thinking this guy works on the Fairmont maintenance staff? According to his profile, BMALE296 is Democrat who works out and reads. He's also usually early—I bet you are, BMALE. On a first date, he'd expect a handshake; he doesn't specify what body part the hand would shake. Oh, and he has a Matchmarker. So perfect, and yet …

Over in Yahoo, nine Icebreakers beg for my attention—ugh. Younghardcutie is neither young nor cute. Intelligent_kind_athletic is 5'8" and doesn't drink. He hopes to visit "Stone Hedge" someday. Boddhisatvabanker is 44-year-old, 5'10" attorney with a shaved head. Comehavefunoutside is 43, lives far away, looks dorky. He's seeking for a partner for outside activities like fishing, hunting, skiing, and the zoo. I'm not much for activities that involve being cold.

Misterjones80 is 30 and posted a bare-bones profile. Bumpedintome is a 44-year-old suburbanite with white hair who specifies "NO PLUS SIZES." I find that so rude. How 'bout just deleting emails from women who don't interest you? Elainepanterwhateverhighandtight (that's mouthful) is 5'10", black, and gives up little in his profile. Rusty204gamer is 54 and lives with his parents. Need I go on? I don't think so, but I can't resist adding that his profile says "Laughter is important to me, as well as wargaming …"

The latest Icebreaker comes from jrow96, whose profile has actually caught my eye in the past. He "smokes often," though, lives in Schaumburg, and uses "LOL" repeatedly in his profile. And, let's not forget that he didn't even email me, but only sent a lame-ass Icebreaker. Not that it needs repeating, but I view those guys with disfavor right off the bat. Feeling as I do about Icebreakers, I don't know why I even check them in Yahoo. I don't monitor the ones in Match very often.

Speaking of Match, my profile has now notched almost 3,500 visits. Brutal—thousands have seen and thousands have turned away.

Dec. 28, 2003: Creating confusion

2005-06-23T07:13:00.000-05:00

Alan replied to my "I'm a psycho" email yesterday:

"Barb,
I must admit, although I am not freaked out, I am completely confused. So in order to keep this EM short, I will summarize:
1- Bottom Line-I would like to get together with you once more in some shape or fashion to see if we can make it 'click'.
2- I agree that the first few dates almost always suck, and the last time was uncomfortable too.
3- I too would like to get together in a relaxing manner such as you suggested in your last EM. I am available every night this week except Monday, and Friday.

Now, as I mentioned I am a bit confused, so I suggest it is your move. So you can either call/EM me with date time and directions to your place. If for some reason you rethink this again and decide you do not want to contact me again (which I hope you do), good luck and I hope you have a good year as well.

Alan"

How in the world is he still so interested? Surely, he can't be that hard up. Well, scheduling-wise, this week is bad for our fateful third attempt at a "click." I'm booked every night except New Year's Day, and I might not feel top-notch that day. I do think I kind of owe him another try, though, after this bizarre exchange, even though I'm still doubtful about his intelligence—what's so confusing, Alan? The part about reading a book? OK—that's just bitchy of me. Anyway, I'll email him and suggest Saturday night, which would make next weekend a double-date package, assuming no one backs out on me. I'm tense just thinking about it.

Dec. 27, 2003: Regrets, I've had a few

2005-06-22T09:15:00.000-05:00

What to do about Alan? Yesterday, I thought about emailing him and claiming I didn't make myself clear in the last email, that I never intended to imply I wanted sex. Now I think it's too late to put that snake back in the can. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe I'll be honest:

"Hi, Alan--Sorry I didn't return your call yesterday. I have to tell you, I'm pretty mortified and have been since I hit the Send button on that email. Listening to you recap it on my voicemail made me realize how absurd it was.

As you can probably tell, I'm not usually that forward, at least not this early on. I blame my moment of brazenness on a book I'm reading, the memoirs of a 66-year-old woman who placed an ad saying she wanted to have lots of sex with a man she liked before her 67th birthday. I guess her brutal honesty inspired a moment of temporary insanity in me. While I love the idea of a tryst with someone I barely know, I don't know that I'd actually be able to follow through.
I could, however, follow through on having that person over to my place to get to know each other in a more relaxed setting--say, with takeout and drinks. I think it's hard to get know someone on those early dinner and lunch dates--they just seem too artificial, you know? So maybe you'd be up for that some time.

Well, I'm going to work out and then I'm off for a day with my sister--lunch and a movie in Evanston. Hope I haven't freaked you out too much!"

That's not too bad. I'll give it some more thought while I run, but I'll probably send it.
***
Joe called while I was running. I must be interested in him because I actually stopped mid-run to answer the phone. We talked for 15 minutes or so, until my sister called on the other line. Good conversation, plenty of laughs, and I realized again that I was smiling the whole time. We spent some time discussing our Christmases with our respective families. I probably shouldn't have mentioned how I need to "find a husband" by next Christmas, if only to even out the grab bag situation. Despite that, Joe asked me out for Friday night, my first date of 2004. He claims his cold is lingering, though, so I don't want to get ahead of myself. You never know until the guy shows up, I've learned.

In the meantime, I'll send Alan my email. I'm not sure why I'm even bothering—I still don't have any real interest in him, beyond the fact that he's a living, breathing man who for some inexplicable reason is (or was) interested in me. Well, again, I'm not committing to anything.

Dec. 26, 2003: A bold step

2005-06-21T10:44:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it through the big day with my psyche intact. As predicted, spending the day in a crowd threw up a dam against my rushes of self-pity. Not that some moments and comments didn't arise that struck close to my hyper-sensitive, orange-level alert singleton sensibilities, such as when my sister explained that, because we'd eat at two tables, couples had to split up: "You can't eat with the same dinner partner you eat with every night." My television wasn't in attendance, but I'm sure the people at the other table would have found it the delightful dining companion I find it to be night after night.

After we sat down, my brother announced that he and his wife are expecting their fourth child next summer—how very Catholic. He's 44 and she's 40; he'll be 63 when the baby goes to college. So, Chuck is one of the guys I've railed against a few times—children at any age because, by gosh, he can! Not really, of course—they claimed the pregnancy was unplanned and I have no doubt that's the case, just from things Bridget has said in the past. Still, I bet he was happier about the turn of events than she.

It does throw off the new approach to niece and nephew gift giving we adopted this year. At my Scrooge-like suggestion, instead of all five of us (me, my brother and sister, and their spouses) each buying gifts for all of the nieces and nephews, who range in age from two to 19, we each drew a name and only bought a gift for that child. Five adults, five kids. With six kids expected next year, I really need to find a husband and fast, if only so things are even for gifting purposes next year.

Back home last night, lying in bed, my thoughts turned to Alan. I started entertaining the notion that maybe I could just sleep with him. I even began to mentally compose an email to him, along those lines. I pushed the absurd thoughts out of my head, though, realizing that he probably wouldn't even call again after our dull lunch. If he did, I didn't know if I could propose the sex idea over the phone. Foolish to even think about this, I told myself.

This morning, however, I found an email from Alan, sent yesterday. He said he had a good time at lunch, but it was too short—he'll call me this weekend to see if I want to get together again. His email is sitting in my mailbox as I type, teasing me with how easy it'd be to reply with a message like the following:

"Hi, Alan—Hope you had great holiday. As far as getting together again, I have to tell you that it doesn't seem to me like we're really clicking. To be perfectly honest, though, it occurs to me that I haven't slept with anyone since I broke my rib in July, and I'd really like to again before 2004. You seem like a nice guy and a happy person, so if you're up for seeing if we connect on this level, let me know and maybe we can get together this weekend. Have some drinks at my place and see what happens …"

Do I have the guts to send this? Why not? If he's turned off by my directness, I won't have to hear from him again, and it won't be a big loss (except, perhaps, to my self-esteem). If he's up for it (so to speak), well, could be interesting, to say the least. After enduring three months of this crap, don't I deserve a little fun?

On a different note, I think I'm going to close my Matchmaker account. I haven't met anyone through the service, and I constantly hear from undesirables, like NEVERTELL447, the 47-year-old married guy who wrote me yesterday (Christmas!). "Not-so-happily married" to a woman who's been ill for 10 years, he's looking to develop a long-term "wonderful affair." Thanks, but no. I'll make do with Yahoo, Match, and EH for now.

And someone new from Match wrote me this morning, KEN41MIDWAY. He writes only "r u 4 real" and includes his phone number and email address. He blames his lack of photo on not owning a scanner. He's a librarian who lives near Midway. His profile doesn't do anything for me, and I really do want to take a few days off, so I guess he's out of luck.

So what to do about Alan? When I let myself consider it last night, the sex idea seemed like a darn good one, but now I'm losing my nerve. I'm so much braver at night, alone in my bed. I think I'll work out for a while and then decide. If I don't send Alan my proposition this afternoon, I probably won't.
***
While riding my exercise bike, I read several chapters of a book called "A Round-Heeled Woman," by Jane Juska. At the age of 66, Juska placed an ad in The New York Review of Books, saying she'd like to have a lot of sex with a man she likes before she turns 67. The book speaks to me, especially as I consider propositioning Alan. Sadly, she's much more daring than I; yet, as she engages in these trysts, with disturbingly aged men, she doesn't describe much in the way of non-carnal satisfaction and she ends up hurt with some regularity. I'm more than halfway through the book, and, even when she scores the sex she seeks, she doesn't seem particularly happy. Beyond the actual encounters, I don't sense a lot of enjoyment or fulfillment from her exploits.

Of course, she writes upfront that she's more interested in sex than conversation or, presumably, regular companionship. "If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me," she concludes her ad. I don't think I could be that mercenary--I'm looking for more than just the physical pleasures of sex, unfortunately. I do envy Juska. As the book jacket puts it, "since her ad made it clear that she wasn't expecting just hand-holding, her dates zipped from first base to home plate in record time." That'd be nice. How sad that this AARP member is more able than I, a woman supposedly in her sexual prime, to move things along.

As fun as it is to fantasize about having a purely sexual interlude with Alan, who am I kidding? Considering my mental block on having sex with someone I find attractive but have just met (a block I mightily curse—I wouldn't want to be as slutty as Samantha, but Miranda wouldn't be so bad), I doubt I could sleep with someone I've gotten to know somewhat but aren't attracted to in the least. In two meetings, I haven't found anything about him that attracts me—his looks, his personality, etc. Not that they're unattractive—they just don't do anything for me. Even his apparent interest in me isn't doing it. And yet I'm curious how Alan would reply. If only I was attracted to something about him.

It can't hurt to at least send an email—it's not like I'm making a commitment and I have to start somewhere if I want to break down my mental blocks. I can change my mind at any time, and I don't even have to answer the door, should we get to the point that he comes over (essentially to service me). Right? To hell with it—I'm thinking too much. Cut and paste, and off the message goes. Now.

It's done—I sent the message above, with the addendum that, if he's not up for it, that's cool, too, and wishing him luck in the new year. How am I going to concentrate on my post-holiday sales shopping this afternoon? Yikes.
***
Fresh out of the shower, I crept back into my office to see if Alan had replied. Nope.

Had to check my Yahoo email account for something from a client and thought I might as well see if anything new had come in. At the same time, I was thinking about what I might write to Joe, if I were to follow up. While showering, still feeling emboldened from my email to Alan, I thought about writing him to suggest that wild weekend he mentions in his profile.

To my surprise, I had a message from Joe in Yahoo. Not much—just happy holidays and he's finally getting over his cold. He sent it on Christmas Eve, so I can go ahead and respond without seeming overeager. If he's anything like me (Lord, I hope not!), he wouldn't call again unless I showed my continued interest by responding to the email. I shall. Upbeat and no references to thinking he'd blown me off or the delay since I've last heard from him.

Oh, God—my phone just rang and, sure enough, it was Alan. I couldn't bring myself to answer, and I feel sick to my stomach as I sit here waiting for voicemail to kick in. Has he received my email? One way to find out.

OK—listening to his recap of my email makes me realize how ridiculous my proposal is, especially when he chuckles a little at the beginning. "You didn't feel we connected at all on the second date"—actually, Alan, on either date. He said he agreed about the lunch, though, and that he's not a fan of lunch dates in general. "But you would be interested in sex. Uh, I got nothing to lose in that one. So feel free to give me a call back. L-later." What have I done? I'm drowning in second thoughts, especially having heard from Joe, who I was attracted to. I'm not exactly sure what I was looking for in Alan's response, but I don't think I got it. He again came off as kind of dull-witted. "Hey, it's a no-lose proposition for me, right?" On the other hand, he is willing, so I've got that going for me, at least.

I'm calling Joe. Probably shouldn't, but don't want to wait. I'm emboldened, dammit. Got his machine, thank God. What I really need to do is dry my hair and drag my ass out the door.
***
As the night drags on without a call from Joe, I regret having called him. I rationalized my call by telling myself that, by doing so, I was taking action, instead of just sitting around, hoping he'd call. I ended up doing just that, though, and, by both replying to his email and calling, I probably came on too strong. I didn't mention getting together in the message, but I did in my email. Doh.
***
Jumped online before I went to bed, still suffering from would-be dater's dissonance over calling and writing Joe so quickly. I logged on to compare cell phone plans (another exciting Friday night—do I know how to live or what?), but of course checked email and saw Joe had written. He said that he's at his mom's house in Michigan and doesn't have my number but hopes to talk when he gets back today. That would explain why he emailed me initially thru Yahoo, instead of using my own address. So that's encouraging. Now I just need to keep myself on an even keel. I'm going to lunch and a movie with my sister this afternoon, which should keep me occupied. Not that I won't check my messages …

Dec. 25, 2003: Christmas break

2005-06-20T07:55:00.000-05:00

Just returned from Roberta's place, where I checked on her cat. She (Roberta, not the cat) is out in Vegas with her boyfriend, visiting his parents. Seeing all of Roberta's photos, etc. memorializing her relationship with Jim only made me feel worse, like what she has is unattainable for me.

I need to get over this. Self-pity is so unattractive, especially at Christmas and in someone who's led such a fortunate life, with so many blessings. And who's not even really alone—I'll be surrounded by family this afternoon, with an abundance of food and gifts, and I could have found company for last night, if I'd been so inclined.

I do, however, want to give myself the Christmas present of a week off from this mission. More than three months have passed since I began this, and it's taking a toll. It's hard to take a break, though, when I'm in the midst of things with a few guys. Tim, for instance, is allegedly calling early next week, when he returns from Florida. Chris from EH also has my number, although I've heard nothing from him since I asked if he has profile somewhere I could see. And Joe could even call (yeah, right). And, assuming Joe doesn't call, I want to email him and ask what gives, why the sudden change in course. I guess that could wait until the new year, while I go into neutral for a few days.

Well, I'm going to try to take some type of break. Maggie will be in town in a couple days, and there's plenty going on over the next week to keep me busy, culminating in my plans for New Year's Even with some friends. Honestly, though, I'm already thinking about skipping out on those. New Year's Eve is so couple-oriented, and I've never been a fan of the forced revelry. Of course, in the past, I've always had a party on New Year's Day to divert my energies to, and I don't think I will this year. We'll see. I don't have to make any decisions on that now. Now, I just have to get over my bad self and enjoy Christmas Day. Or at least the food. Seriously, though, I'm lucky in that I've always been easily distracted from demoralizing thoughts by the company of others, so I should be able to push all this foolishness from my mind this afternoon.

Dec. 24, 2003: A Christmas miracle?

2005-06-17T11:32:00.000-05:00

I expected to write a brief entry today, about how most people would probably think it sad and depressing to spend Christmas Eve alone, but I enjoy it. I rented a couple movies ("Home for the Holidays" and "Scrooge") yesterday, while the selection was still full, and plan on picking up a chicken tang pizza. But, lo and behold, I actually have a Christmas Eve lunch date, of all things.

Alan called me last night and filled me in on his shopping trip. He was quite excited about his new black shoes and camera phone, as well as a successful sales call he made Monday; he has had so much more personality and enthusiasm on the phone than in person so far. We're meeting for lunch at 12:30pm down in Lakeview. While I'm open to lunch rolling into a whole afternoon, and even to possibly inviting him to join me tonight, I'm not going to force it solely so I can say I shared Christmas Eve with a guy. If lunch goes the way dinner on Sunday did, I'd rather spend the evening alone, as planned. But, hey—maybe it'll be a Christmas miracle and a spark will fire up and tomorrow morning I'll be making him breakfast. I'm not counting on it, though.
***
No Christmas miracle. Alan isn't doing anything for me, unfortunately. By the time our sandwiches arrived at lunch, I knew I didn't want to spend the afternoon with him, although I think he was hoping I'd join him on a post-lunch trip to Linens 'n Things. Love L&T, but I didn't want to trudge through more of our conversational swamps.

I got to Pompeii at 12:30pm and sat down with a paper to wait for Alan. Three minutes later, I decided he wasn't coming. That's where I am right now—I immediately assume I'm being stood up instead of coming up more rational explanations like he got stuck in traffic. Or, as it turned out, was waiting for me in a sandwich shop across the street. He ambled in to Pompeii about 10 minutes later, or at least it seemed like ambling to me, when he walked in without apologizing for being late. Once we figured out the confusion, we moved into line to order. I made some chit chat, but he didn't really respond, I think because he was focusing on what to order. One thing at a time, I guess. Yeah—he doesn't strike me as all that bright, and his subsequent admission that that the only thing he really misses about living in Texas is stepping on hills of fire ants did nothing to change that assessment. Nor did his admission that he didn't know whether the wine I ordered Sunday night was white or red wine. I racked my brain, trying to remember if I'd ordered by brand, which would be out of character. "You mean chardonnay?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied without shame. "I'm pretty sure merlot is red, though," he added. He comes off as the frat boy that Google revealed him to be.

Just as at dinner the other night, I found conversing with Alan fraught with difficulty. We both had to repeat ourselves several times, which could really get annoying with time. He's certainly pleasant enough, and happy, but he's not particularly funny or smart or interesting. In fact, he might be kind of dorky. He was still talking about his damn new shoes, for God's sake. When we moved past that fascinating topic, we discussed even more scintillating things, like health insurance, taxes, and cell phone plans. He also mentioned that he was carrying an extra eight pounds or so, becoming distracted as he examined his torso to determine if the weight was noticeable. And he told a story about going to a Rangers game that made it clear he's a Bush fan ("President Bush," as he so formally and respectfully called him).

Other than Linens 'n Things, I can't think of any common interests we share, besides a general fondness for sports. Nothing comes to mind as far as activities we could do together, and he obviously doesn't comprehend a lot of my references. Like on Sunday night, I'm awash in ambivalence. And this time, it's dragging me down. Someone is interested in me and following up on our audition in the way I always hope for, but I have no interest in him. Ah, cruel irony. He's not unlikable or unattractive or anything, but I'm not feeling any stirring for him. If I did, I'd probably invite him over for dinner this weekend, but I can't imagine sustaining conversation with him for a whole evening. Yet, when we were parting ways, he again said he had a great time. I don't think he said anything about calling me, though, so that's good.

If he does, do I give him one more chance? I mean, after 10 minutes with him today, I knew I'd rather spend the afternoon and evening by myself, but if I truly want to find someone, should I give up so easily? Shouldn't I try harder? I wonder if I'm too comfortable hanging out by myself. If I didn't enjoy it, I'd probably give more guys more of a chance (not that they're exactly beating down my door). Of course, if I didn't enjoy it, I'd also be miserable much of the time because I do end up alone a lot. Lord knows the pleasure I derive from alone-time defies society's expectations.

How much of this whole quest is about society's expectations? Would I have begun this endeavor if I didn't feel like a freak for being alone and for being happy despite my dreaded single status? If people didn't look down on or at least pity the singleton, I don't know that I'd even be doing this. I'd be content to continue living my life as I have if it was regarded as perfectly normal. I'm not saying I'd vow to stay single forever—I'd hope (against hope) that someday I might be lucky enough to find someone, but I wouldn't feel any pressure or like I’m missing out on something so important and critical to true human fulfillment. If it happened, great; if not, so be it. I doubt I'd be taking these aggressive online measures that are so crushing my spirits.

What truly sucks is that I feel depressed right now. Having met eight guys over the past three months and finding myself no better off than when I started, this seems so hopeless. I know I'll spend next Christmas Eve alone again. I just hope I can enjoy it then because this dating thing is ruining it for me this year, making a once pleasant and happily anticipated tradition seem tragic and pitiable. I can honestly say this is the first time I remember feeling bummed out about being single at the holidays. I'm letting society's judgment usurp my own. It's like I'm surrendering—yes, I am single and alone at the holidays, so I am unhappy. Happy holidays, indeed.

Dec. 23, 2003: Affirmation, at last

2005-06-16T10:46:00.000-05:00

Well, doesn't it figure. I finally get a guy to show some real interest and initiative shortly after an audition—the instant affirmation I so crave—and it's someone I feel only lukewarm about. Yep—Alan just called, a little before noon, to see if I'd like to go down to Michigan Avenue to do some shopping. He left a voicemail saying he received my thank-you email yesterday and had a great time at dinner, too (not that I had said I had a great time—I basically just said thanks again and wished him luck on a sales call I knew he would be making). I laughed at his message when he said he probably wouldn't buy anything for anyone else while shopping today, saying "It's all about Alan." So far, he's definitely been better on the phone.

I don't want to head downtown today—I'm finished with my Christmas shopping, having done most of it online, and have some work to do, plus it's cold outside. And, I must admit, I've been looking forward to a no-workout, no-shower day. I do want to see him again, though, if only to see if there's any potential. Maybe I can suggest something for tomorrow? I better make up my mind quickly because the cleaning lady just arrived, so I need to head out for a few hours.

Called him and got his voicemail—kind of a relief, being the wimp I am. I did, however, suggest we could meet for lunch or something tomorrow. So we'll see where we go from here.

Dec. 22, 2003: A raw evening

2005-06-15T09:43:00.000-05:00

My dinner with Alan did indeed happen, but, compared with the charge I felt after my audition with Joe, it was a dud. Not bad, mind you, just blah. As James would put it, there was a decided lack of click, and I drove home in a cloud of ambivalence.

I arrived at the restaurant a couple minutes late, and it didn't look like it was open. Neither of us had visited the restaurant, located in a neighborhood where we'd each lived in the past, in years, and it easily could have shut down in the meantime. As I approached the entrance, I saw Alan down the block by the door, and called out, "I guess it's not open anymore, huh?"

I appraised him quickly as I walked up—jeans, untucked red and white checked flannel shirt over a colored t-shirt, and, as described, an almost bald head. I'd been hoping he'd have more of a buzz than a shaved head. So he wasn't my usual physical type. That's not to say his looks wouldn't grow on me. He wasn't unattractive by any means, and I'm sure plenty of women would have found him very good-looking immediately; I'd just need to get accustomed to the look, but I don't doubt that I could, especially with that body and smile.

Alan shook my hand when I reached him, and suggested we walk down the street to find another restaurant. We ended up at a new place I've never heard of, kind of Nuevo Mexican or maybe Cuban. Either way, a little too sophisticated for me, your basic enchiladas-and-burritos type. And it was probably a mistake to say, "I can't remember the last time I ate at a place I knew nothing about. I usually do a little online research in advance." Doesn't make me seem very spontaneous or easy-going, does it?

Finding a suitable dish on the menu challenged me—what kind of restaurant doesn't have a chicken dish? I decided to push the envelope and try a pork dish. When I eat out, I generally stick to poultry, cow, or a few select sea creatures as the source of my meal. Pig doesn't really do anything for me, unless it's cured, so I haven't eaten pork in years. But I figured, "How bad could it be? It's the other white meat, after all." That was a mistake.

The spicy stuffing distracted me at first, but the consistency of the pork reminded me of chewing on something only partially defrosted. Struck me as odd but I carried on bravely, with the dim light precluding me from noticing the startling salmon hue of the meat. Once I realized how undercooked it was, peering down at my plate like a student dissecting a frog with a fork and knife, I felt kind of sick, almost like—oh, I don't know—I'd been eating raw flesh. I didn't want to seem picky, though, so I tried to force down a few more bites, but I left a lot on my plate, still oinking in my mind. I remained so hungry I even resorted to eating the fried plantain that protruded from the swirl of potato, initially fooling me into thinking I'd scored some bacon, the good pig.

Conversation was a bit of an uphill struggle at times, perhaps in part because the restaurant was rather loud, and we didn't seem to be hearing each other all that clearly. I asked him to repeat himself repeatedly, and I could tell he misunderstood me several times, to the point that I eventually stopped clarifying. Although he told me at one point that I’m really funny, I felt like a good portion of my jokes fell flat with him—maybe he just couldn't hear them.

When we could hear each other, we talked about his various roommates since he's been in Chicago, his job, his username (certified pharmacology technician—cpht123), football. When I switched from sangria on the first round of drinks to chardonnay on the second, he immediately concluded I don't drink beer. He said it was unusual for a woman who likes sports not to drink beer. So we talked a little about why I don't really drink beer much. I guess it's a good thing I don't, or I'd be totally butch.

Basically, the evening was boring, which surprised me after our phone conversations. He opened up a little and talked more easily as time passed, but I wouldn't say we connected much. As we were parting ways after an hour and a half, standing about a yard from each other by my car, he said he'd had a great time and would definitely call me before the holidays. "Really?" I thought. "A great time? How?" Nonetheless, I agreed and said "Absolutely!" about getting together again. We hugged like two guys, right down to the back pats, and he walked back toward his car. Then, like an ass, I called out after him, "You mean the Christmas holidays, right?" I meant it as a joke and nothing more, but, in hindsight, boy, could that be misinterpreted. And it did seem like he didn't necessarily get my sense of humor, so God knows what he thought of that little addendum to the evening.

My audition with Alan puts a new little twist on my thank-you rule. He did pay, and I'd say my share of the bill was at least $30. If he hadn't picked up the check, I probably wouldn't email him again. Because he did, I feel like etiquette requires me to send a follow-up thank-you email. I wonder if he'll actually call, though.

See, here's the difference between me and, I think, a lot of guys. The conversation wasn't great and I couldn't be much more ambivalent about him, but I'd give him another chance if he asked. He could have been nervous or shy or just had an off-night, and he mentioned he was getting over a cold. From my way of thinking, you can't rule someone out so quickly, but maybe that's a sign of desperation on my part.

But I think he might already have found someone, at least temporarily. He mentioned seeing the latest Hugh Grant movie. "Well, I hope you saw that on a date and not on your own," I replied, and he seemed to indicate that it was on a date. Plus, when I went online to review his profile yesterday, the profile was unavailable. On the other hand, he admitted he'd almost canceled our dinner (because of a cold—who knew guys were such wimps?); if he'd met someone, wouldn't he have gone ahead and cancelled? Unless he figured he might as well give it a try, just to see if there was instant spark or something. Either way, why would he say he'd call me, specifically saying "before the holidays" if he had no interest? So annoying.

Regardless, it probably wasn't a good sign, anyway, that on the drive home I was thinking, "Maybe Joe will call tonight." He didn't, BTW. I don't know what the hell happened there. One day, he's calling me to get together again, saying he's looking in the Reader and coming off as eager. The next, he's slinking away with the lame excuse of a cold, and I don't hear from him since. Considering I had no contact with him between the call asking me out and the call canceling, I'm left rather bewildered. I'm just glad I'm not feeling the urge to email him. I'm done chasing these guys. For now, anyway.

Tim from Match wrote again last night. He asked about my weekend and told me about his. He noticed I'd updated my profile and even identified my karaoke photo as being taken at Marigold Bowl. I thought about telling him why I've made changes, but he doesn't need to know about the different reindeer games I play with my profile. And, of course, the guy's whose lengthy profile prompted me to go back to my old profile style has yet to reply to my email. Anyway, I responded to Tim and included my phone number. He's headed out of town on Wednesday but suggested meeting after he returns next Sunday.

Over in Yahoo, I have one new email, but it doesn't even invite a response:

"I hope this Christmas you will get the chance to feel like a child again and be aware of the spiritual message of this hollyday. And may your Christmas tree be packed with beauty, lights and presents and may The Santa be giving. Sorin"

Then he followed up with another email:

"I would love to send u a picture but first I need your mail addres.For a special lady my email is costelsorin@hotmail.com.Talk to u soon!Sorin"

I don't think so, Sorin. The guy doesn't even have a profile.

Three Icebreakers, too. Captainsanctuary is 46, 5'10", and lives with roommates. I'd think that would make it difficult to find sanctuary. Krez59 is 44, lives in Gurnee, and also lives with roommates. He describes himself as "more active than sedimentary." No one likes a rock, after all. The final Icebreaker, leinonmysoul, sounds like he might be worth pursuing, but he's only 29 (Matt soured me on that age), doesn't post a photo, and only sent an Icebreaker. And he wants kids.

One email in MM, from Dominic986. He's 5'9"-5'10", rarely drinks, and lives in Hobart, Indiana. He answers the short-answer questions by saying he doesn't subscribe to the service and giving his own email address. And his message was a bit incoherent:

"It's great that you have traveled this big ball inwhich we live. That's the only thing I regret, one day I'll learn as you did to cut this ball and chain which people describe as a job and see some of the world. HAVE FUN!"

That's it for now. I hope that's it for the week, or at least until Christmas. I think I've earned a break, and traffic should be slow this week. I'll probably have some downtime to shop but sending out new emails this close to the holidays would reek of loneliness and desperation.

Ewww! Taking a quick spin on Match, I came across tallfitfun4U's profile again. He's been active in the past 24 hours, so it doesn't look like he's responding to the email I sent yesterday. Just as well because he added a photo of himself in painter's jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt. I like that his primary photo is now of his dog, but the muscle T is hard to swallow. Ah, well—it's all moot now.

Dec. 21, 2003: Let's go to the phones ... or not

2005-06-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

Christopher responded to my short-answer questions. Turns out he doesn't necessarily want children—he's just not opposed to the idea. That doesn't exactly jibe with answering that two would be the ideal number of children but whatever. So now we're at the "open communication" stage, leaving me to send the first actual message. I can't say the process thus far has created any excitement about Christopher for me, but maybe the open communication will change that.

"Hi, Christopher--So we 'meet' at last. How have you enjoyed your eHarmony experience so far? I'm kind of undecided about it, myself. Parts of it seem like a good idea, but it also seems so impersonal and business-like. I find it hard to get a handle on what someone is really like or even just his interests, y'know?

Regardless, we definitely have some things in common. Have you had any good travels lately? I went to Kauai in November, which was unbelievably beautiful and had some great hiking. I usually like to take one major trip each year, with a few shorter getaways along the way. I spent some time in Lake Geneva, NJ, and Michigan this year, and also took in some pre-season and post-season Cubs games in Arizona and Atlanta.

I noticed you're in grad school--are you getting an MBA? Where are you going to school? I got my master's in journalism in June. Not that useful for Trivial Pursuit (one of my favorite games, too), but it should help me get more freelance gigs.

Well, I'd better get going--I never know how much to write in this phase. Hope you're having a good holiday season so far (with lots of chocolate), and thanks for your interest!

Barb"

While in EH, I noticed that Roger hasn't closed us out yet. What's the delay? I guess I could do it, but, on the off chance I hear from him again, it'd be an actual message and I’m curious to see what he would write, if he'd even refer to how drawn out he'd made the process.

Chris (as he signed his email, thank God—you know how I feel about guys who use their full names) responded with a pretty brief email:

"Barb,

I was to Kauai 3 times so far, Love it more each time I go

If your interested maybe we can talk over the phone. Its so much easier and I would be willing. Let me know I can give you my number or you can give me yours?

Chris"

I don't know why, but I find myself hesitant to go the phone with EH guys. It doesn't make much sense, considering how quickly I give my number to some guys on the other services. I think maybe it's because the EH process gives you so little feel for the guy. At least with the other services, a guy's profile offers a fairly clear idea of his interests and maybe even his background, while the voice of the introductory emails lets you glean some sense of his personality. You don't get that with EH. Or maybe it's just my shallowness—I haven't found either of the guys with whom I've reached this stage in EH particularly attractive (plus, Chris' email wasn't very articulate). Still, I paid $100 for EH and haven't talked to anyone yet, so I should send Chris my number. Who knows what could happen? I think I'll ask him if he has a profile posted on any other sites, too, so I can gather some more intelligence on him.

On a more immediate note, I'm meeting Alan for dinner in a few hours. We made the plans a few days ago, and some hints of skepticism started creeping in today. I thought I remembered him saying that he would call to confirm, but I hadn't heard from him since our initial phone conversation. I was resigning myself today to the fact that he might not show up and already debating whether I'd pick up some takeout pizza at the restaurant before heading home. I'm pleased to report, though, that Alan called about 10 minutes ago, and we're allegedly still on. I'm afraid past experiences leave me no choice but to insert the "allegedly"—you just never know what will actually happen. At the same time, though, the door-slammed-in-my-face outcomes of some earlier "dates" make me appreciate the courtesy of the confirmation call. Looks like I've stumbled across a mature and considerate one. Here's hoping the call is a harbinger of good things to come.

Dec. 20, 2003: The kid issue, again

2005-06-13T09:04:00.000-05:00

When you wake up Saturday morning and find 58 emails in your Inbox, you assume it's all spam, especially when you didn't sign off the night before until 6pm. And yet, I've received communication from Christopher. I fully expected that I wouldn't hear from him again after he scanned my must-haves and can't-stands and was reminded about my stance on children. But, no—he's moved us to the next level. So now I have to question him about this in the short-answer question section:

"Hi, Christopher—I was surprised to hear from you again, considering you want to have children, while I don't. Is that not a deal-breaker for you?"

In his short-answer questions to me, he asks what I'm most proud of in my life, to describe an interest I hope my partner would share, and what I'm looking for in a partner. Do I have the energy to respond right now? I suppose. I'm not going to pour too much into this, what with the kid issue looming. On the other hand, it would be nice to actually meet someone through EH, even if it doesn't work out in the end. Well, I can cut and paste answers to the questions he posed, so I've found a happy medium for this dilemma.

It's the weekend, so naturally I find myself revising my Match profile again. I'm taking a radical approach this time—I'm being completely forthright, not trying to hide anything. If a guy doesn't like me, to hell with him. Great attitude, ay?

Dec. 19, 2003: Drinks vs. dinner

2005-06-10T09:59:00.000-05:00

Alan called last night, and we did talk. I guess I inadvertently gave him my work line number because that's the phone that rang around 6:40pm. I called him back a couple hours later, when I realized "Scrubs" was a rerun. I left a voicemail, and he then called about ten minutes later.

We talked for about 45 minutes, longer than I expected, and it went fairly well. His voice is very friendly and gregarious, and he's a bit of fast talker. No surprise that he's in sales and enjoys schmoozing. We talked about our work and educational backgrounds, travel, skiing, etc. We both have marketing degrees, but he wishes he had studied something technical or related to engineering and mentioned the possibility of returning to school. We both lived in the Wrigleyville area before buying condos, and he's in the West Loop now. Eventually, he asked me if I'd like to go out, and we settled on dinner at the Red Tomato on Sunday evening.

At first, he talked about getting together Sunday afternoon for lunch, but I bust out with the admission that I want to watch the Bears game. I don't know what I was thinking. "Wow, you really do like sports," he said. I told him I usually downplay that side of myself because guys tend to find it strange, but he disagreed and said he thought it was great. He's a Cowboys fan, and Bobby Knight coaches his college's basketball team, so he's somewhat of a fan of that team, too. He claimed to also support Chicago teams. Anyway, he offered to pick me up, but I turned him down—it'd be totally out of the way for him. And if dinner goes horribly, why protract the evening?

I think I'm changing my tune about the drinks vs. dinner debate. Dinner has more structure to it—a start, a middle, and an end that follows a predictable pace. Dinner comes to a natural end; it's not up to someone to draw the evening to a close, as it is with drinks. You don't have to deal with the uncertainty that arises each time the possibility of ordering another round nears.

Elsewhere, Christopher in EH answered my five questions. Like me, he said he thinks chemistry can be generated over the long term with someone you really like. But, unlike me, he thinks two kids would be ideal. Goddammit—why do these guys keep doing this? I'm starting to think they don't read my introductory profile thoroughly. His other answers were fine, but that's irrelevant if he wants kids. Because all it requires is clicking a button, I sent him my must-haves and can't-stands anyway, which includes "I must have someone who shares my desire not to have children." Nice not knowing you, Chris.

Tim responded to my email with the Bartman photo. He had already seen it—not a surprise, the way these things circulate—but found it hilarious, so he has a sense of humor. Like Alan, he hasn't heard of David Sedaris' Santaland Diaries, which I'm going to see tonight, but that's okay. He proposed getting together some time next week, before Christmas. I have my annual grab bag party with the TV night gals on Monday night, so that leaves only Tuesday and Wednesday, which is Christmas Eve. We'll see if it works out.

In MM, Geoff wrote that he won't dwell on mistaking me for someone else, and that I still sound fabulous. "If you'd like to chat, let me know." He signs off with an emoticon. He gives me the creeps, so I'm dropping this exchange, if you could call it that.

Dec. 18, 2003: Norwegians, trysexuals, and (cuddle)bears

2005-06-09T09:24:00.000-05:00

Well, back on the hamster wheel today. I have an email from Tim, sent late last night. He sent his personal email address and asked if I'd like to meet for a beer or coffee soon. Sure—let's get the one-and-out out of the way. I'll try to be more positive in my response. I think I'll forward him a photo someone sent me of the infamous interfering Cub fan hiding in Saddam's spider hole.

EH sent another match—Christopher, 39, from Chicago Ridge— and he's already requested communication. He's 6'4", a senior information consultant, and looks pleasant in his photo. A few extra pounds, as Match would say, but that's not a problem. He likes Trivial Pursuit (which I love) and to learn new things and is currently in grad school. He can't live without family, friends, playing, learning, and chocolate. My kind of guy. I bet he wants kids, though. When a guy mentions family several times, particularly nieces and nephews, that tells me something.

I answered his five questions. He asked about chemistry, jealousy levels, verbal intimacy skills, and my ideas about adventure and a romantic time. I sent him my standard five questions, including the all-important "If you were to marry, how many children would be ideal?"
***
Two new emails in Yahoo this afternoon. Steve_norway2000 is indeed Norwegian—my second foreign guy in as many days (this one can't spell "good"; he uses "god" instead, which makes for some amusingly unintended wordplay). He assures me he spends half his time in Chicago and is moving here in 12 months. Don't do it for me, Steve. He's 47, with three kids, the oldest aged 20. As for the rest of his message, I don't think I could do it justice, so let me quote:

"Technically I am married but on the way to a divorce. Why you might ask? Well have been married for over 25 years, a very happy marriage, but we have grown apart, regretfully. I know that it is now time part.

I am a very romantically man, I like courting, I like to spoil a woman that likes the effort. I want to be in a relationship where a man is a man and a woman is a woman. I want to seduce and to be seduced. I want to serve and to be served. I want to spoil and to be spoiled. I want to have intelligent discussions about life in general and pleasing in particular. I want to enrich and to be enriched. I want to be equal, yet above and below at the same time. I want to feel small and big at the same time.

I believe that a relationship requires constant work and a big portion of forgiveness. I believe that a partners reasonability is to support, cheer and don’t ask questions like why, just acceptance. I think that a god partner is a god listener.

I believe that romance and love is created between brains. I believe sex is a very important part of a relationship, but not, by far, the only part. I believe by satisfying ones partner one egoistically reaches the highest levels of pleasures. I am a trysexual, I try almost everything at least ones, and it is only through experience ones knows.

The best ingredients for a god life are romance, humor, talks and understanding. A financial secure situation helps; crying in a Jaguar is easier than crying on a bus.

I am 6´3”, 220 lbs (too much of the god life), blue eyes, blonde (wish I had some more hair).
If you have the same views in life and about life, please write and tell me more about your dreams in life, I want to know more.
Best hugs
Steve"

A trysexual? That's a new one. Could that have anything to do with the end of your marriage, perhaps? Or was that because of your wife's failure to just accept, instead of asking why? I'm going to pass on this rare opportunity to have intelligent discussions about pleasing. I'd rather be pleased than talk about it, intelligently or any other way.

The other Yahoo email is from edatriverealm. He's 44 and lives way out in Mokena. With roommates. He wrote only:

"I admire what you did, took guts. Admire people who take calculated risks. Ed"

A man of few words, Ed is.

Over in MM, BEATLEBOY836 asks if I'm singing karaoke in my photo, and goes on to write:

"I'm going to be getting my fill of that crap this Winter: I'm going to Singapore for three months, where kareoke is the national pastime!"

That's a shame. I think we would have had a beautiful future, despite the fact that he's 46-50, 5'9"-5'10", drinks daily, and writes, no joke, that he speaks the language of love. I think his username is based on his resemblance to a bloated Paul McCartney, with the heavily moussed hair of an '80s pop singer.

BIGBRAD339 comes with a Matchmarker and four stars on the Matchmeter. His email, which he sent twice, wasn't very impressive, though:

"I liked your profile and I thought I would say hi. I like tall women and you certainly are that. It is really hard to find someone so tall who is also attractive. Well if your interested, let me know.
Brad"

He doesn't post a photo, and nothing in his profile grabs me. Delete.

I still have the email from Geoff in my MM mailbox. He doesn't have a photo, but I was thinking about writing anyway. He comes off as potentially negative in his profile, though. Oh, well—can't hurt to drop a quick line. He didn't exactly give me much to work with in his two-sentence email. I think I'll ask if he has a photo available.

Alan from Match has returned from his business trip and wrote that he'll call me tonight. Right now, I'm not really in the mood for that, but we'll see. He may not even call, so no use fretting over it now.
***
Geoff responded to my email but ignored my request for a photo. He also thinks he "sort of" knows me, saying that we emailed a few years back. He's wrong, though—I'd remember the name Geoff, plus he said I was working for Ameritech at the time. Nope. He wants to move to chatting already, but I don't like his lack of a response to my photo inquiry. I'm just going to reply that he's mistaking me for someone else and leave it at that.

CUDDLEBEAR sends me a new MM email, beginning with "You probably wish you weren't so tall … It seems like every woman no matter how attractive will find something about her body she doesn't like." Sweeping generalizations are such a turnon, CUDDLEBEAR. He goes on to say he wouldn't normally be interested in someone my age who's never been married, but I've obviously committed myself to my education and career. Thanks for the dispensation. That means a lot, especially from a twice-divorced house painter. He also describes himself as very good looking, which contradicts his Larry Bird lookalike photo (his other four photos are from his childhood), claims to be well endowed, says he speaks "pillow talk," and would opt for a bionic tongue as his superpower. Yuck.

Dec. 17, 2003: Sisyphus strikes again

2005-06-08T10:48:00.000-05:00

I think the holiday lull I've been expecting finally has taken hold. The only action this morning is three Yahoo Icebreakers. One came from a 47-year-old in Northwest Indiana who's looking for an "Extreamly tall woman," as in 6'4" or taller. He, however, is only 5'11". Good luck, fella.

Another came from athleticdancingmachine. The "dancing machine" moniker is turnoff enough, plus he's 44, conservative, and, like the guy looking for the tall dominatrix, doesn't post a photo. The final Icebreaker is from a Harley guy in Rockford who doesn't drink, is heavily tattooed, and wears a big mustache that spreads across his lower face like an oil spill.

I haven't seen much in MM for a while, but I have two emails waiting today. FORTNER385 earns a Matchmarker, so he's tall enough, etc., and he lives within five miles. He's liberal, 6'1"-6'2", has a master's, and is usually on time. He's originally from Europe—maybe that's why he's a dancing machine. That might also explain the sprinkling of misspellings. I'm a little hesitant because he seems too, I don't know, soft? He wrote in his email that "travel is very good for the soul; expanding horizons and providing a foundation of a world view that furthers growth." He asked where I'd like to travel next and where he can see some of my writing. Is that a sly way to track down my last name? From a guy who identifies himself only as "A"? I'll think about it a bit but probably write later.

XNEWX668, or Ced'ric, lives in Barrington and has piercings and/or tattoos. He's also black, which brings up a topic I've kind of dodged. I have to admit that I don't consider black guys. I don't have a problem with them; it's just that I think biracial relationships are very difficult. I have a hard enough time in relationships, so I'm not interested in going after something with inherent challenges right from the start. I'm not sure what that makes me—lazy, wimpy, stupid, or all of the above.

Another email arrived in MM while I was browsing the other two. But the thickly bearded BLUEEYEZZZ has written me in the past. What's going on in MM? Another email just came in, while I was reminding myself why I didn't pursue BLUEEYEZZZ. GEOFF898 is 41-45 and doesn't post a photo, but his profile sounds good and he has a Matchmarker and three stars. He writes that he's 6'1", but he checked 5'11"-6'0". He runs, bikes, and plays golf, and likes theatre, movies, wine, and food. He didn't write much in his email:

"You certainly sound like someone worth knowing. If you'd have an interest in chatting let me know."

I might just do that.
***
Sigh. Today was my monthly lunch with the college gals. I checked my voicemail on the way home and was pleased when I recognized Joe's phone number on the little prelude to the message. Unfortunately, he was calling to cancel our date for tomorrow night, saying he's come down with a bad cold. A cold? A cold so debilitating that he already knows he'll be out of commission tomorrow night? It's so sad that I can't just take his words at face value, but I've been burned too many times. I find myself thinking, "Well, at least he called and gave me plenty of notice," but that shouldn't be a big deal. That should be a given. He closed by saying, "Let's definitely keep in touch, and we'll get together sometime. Talk to you soon, I hope."

How to respond? I could be an adult and call him back. You know—wish him a quick recovery, let him know I'm not angry and hope we can get together some other time. Of course, I'm more inclined to send an email, expressing the same sentiments.

I called him, and I think that will be the last I hear of him. He sounded in fine spirits, not at all sick. We only spoke for a minute or two; I said I just wanted to touch base and wish him a quick recovery. He repeated the "let's definitely stay in touch" line but didn't propose any potential dates for rescheduling. So, different guy, same old shit.

Why does this keep happening to me? Why is every audition a one-and-out? And what makes the few guys who actually remain interested after meeting me come to their senses as that second date nears? I don't know which is worse—hearing nothing after an audition or being led to believe there's another meeting on the horizon, only to have it snatched away. Is it any wonder I work so hard not to be excited or to look forward to second dates? I fight optimism in dating matters because I fear having my hopes dashed. That's no way to live. And yet, every time I let even a drop of hope seep in, I end up feeling like Sisyphus, pushing the rock to the top of the hill again and again, only to have it roll back down. I've asked it before and I know I'll ask it again—when will I learn?

And I really, really wish I could stop myself from thinking too far ahead. Even with Joe, while I was telling myself, "Wait and see, wait and see if Thursday even happens," in the back of my mind I was thinking, "If it goes well Thursday, maybe we can get together again on Saturday." Twice in three days? Get a grip. I think I've unconsciously been keeping my Saturday night free, too. Argh. I'm equally disgusted by the creeping realization that, come January, when my dance card is as blank as Jessica Simpson, I'll probably have the urge to reach out to James because he's the only guy who's shown any interest.

God, I feel so deflated right now, like an old balloon caught in the high branches of a tree. Yep--shriveled up and going nowhere, that's me. And how delightful that tomorrow marks three months that I've been at this futile quest. I should make up a progress report, but that would really depress me. Not exactly the emotion I want to wrap myself up in a week before Christmas.

Dec. 16, 2003: Joe to the World

2005-06-07T10:22:00.000-05:00

Cool—I got my "perfect world" wish last night—Joe called while I was out. I came home around 10pm and found a voicemail from Joe. He said he was calling to see how my weekend was, chat, and see what my schedule is like later this week. I like the implication there. I called him back but no answer, so I left a friendly, upbeat message, along with my daytime number. I continue to really like his voice, and I'm letting myself feel moderately excited about going out with him again. Careful, though—you never know who might be the next Matt.

Alan and Tim both replied to my emails of yesterday. Alan grew up in Texas and has no family in Chicago—I always like that. He wrote that he's headed out of town today but would like to give me a call when he returns. I'll send him my number. Tim explained how he ended up in the Twin Cities for 12 years (closest city to his college) and filled me in on some of his non-baseball interests. He also asked about mine, and what I do for a living. Easy enough to respond.

Good grief—I've now had over 3,000 hits on my Match profile, according to the counter. What's the problem, fellas? What is it that makes you move on to the next profile, with nary a word to me?

EH found me another match—can I really say that when I've yet to even talk with one of these guys?—a 6'1" trader from Chicago. He's 45, though, with no photos, and he didn't respond to a lot of the questions.

Two new Icebreakers in Yahoo. The first guy is a biker (as in Harley, not Trek) and writes "TATTOOS A PLUS BUT NOT A NECESSITY." Well, that's a relief. I noticed that he took advantage of the Yahoo feature where you can post some "conversations starters," such as "do you have any piercings or tattoos?," which he asks. I find it kind of ironic that someone who sends a canned Icebreaker would include conversation starters.

The second guy sounds all right—lots of travel and outdoor activities, starting his own business, likes literature and movies. But he's 5'10", lives in a far west suburb, wants kids, and writes in his profile that "to get me to watch sports would require leather straps and those Clockwork Orange eyelid things." Probably wouldn't work out.
***
Yea! Joe just called on my work line. He wants to get together this week, so we settled on Thursday night. He's scanning the Reader and said he'd get back to me with more info. How very date-y. I'm not sure whether he's looking for a good restaurant or a show or what, but I'm fairly psyched. It's cool that he called me this morning, instead of waiting until tonight, and that he's putting some effort into this—I'm usually the one who does that. I'll probably grow somewhat nervous when it gets closer—I mean, it's kind of make-or-break as to whether anything will follow—but I'm hoping I can hold off that apprehension for a day or two.

Emode sent me four members who match my criteria. The first one is Ray. Grrr.

Dec. 15, 2003: All things to all guys

2005-06-06T09:07:00.000-05:00

Emails from Alan and Tim were waiting for me this morning. Alan answered my questions about his most recent travels—skiing in Utah and Puerto Vallarta. He lives in a condo in the West Loop and works from home, in industrial sales. He also wrote about running and wanting to see "The Lion King" before it leaves town—probably trying to show he appreciates both the arts and sports. A nice thought, but, as I mentioned in my reply, I'm not a big fan of musicals. He asked about my "agenda for fun," and I gave a typically broad response:

"So--my agenda for fun? I kind of live for the warmer months, when I can run, golf, go to ball games, play tennis, etc. Of course, I was injured in July this year, so a lot of those things were knocked off track. But I also like to go to plays (preferably non-musicals, I have to admit), movies, restaurants, the occasional bar. Staying in works, too, either cooking or ordering in, watching some movies--especially in the winter! I can be pretty easily amused."

That's me—all things to all guys.

Tim wrote about growing up as a Brewers fan in northern Wisconsin. He's also a Packer fan. His email was basically all-sports content. Not a problem, I guess, for now. I replied with a little football talk (preferring the Packers to the Vikings), and asked him how he came to live in Minneapolis and what he does for fun when it isn't baseball season.

I received a Match email this afternoon from carlspakler. He's home sick with his dogs, as he put it. Good to see he's using his time productively. I looked at his profile, and it doesn't do anything for me. I'm wary of guys who post photos of their dogs. Not them with their dogs, mind you—just the dogs themselves. And he wants two kids (aren't the dogs enough, buddy?).

I'm heading downtown in a few minutes to meet Joel for dinner before we take in a live taping of an NPR show (yes—we're geeks). In a perfect world, I'll come home to find a message from Joe. It won't be long before I start to think I'm not actually going to hear from him again.

Dec. 14, 2003: Details, details

2005-06-03T08:26:00.000-05:00

I have an email from a Match fella this morning, cpht123 (Alan). His profile snippet and email look good—38, 6'0", lives in the city, active lifestyle, goal-oriented—but I've never seen him in any of my searches, so something must be off, "criteria-wise." I'm going to guess he wants kids. Nope—he checks "not sure." Maybe he's just new. He's conservative, with very short salt and pepper hair; his headline reads "Smooth as my head!" Does that mean it's shaved? Well, I'll write him back this afternoon. It's always nice when the guy makes the first email move, especially when he's a viable candidate. Geez, "viable candidate"—so romantic.

Both of the emails I received this weekend referred to how active I seem to be. So should I revise my Match profile to downplay that aspect of myself? I think it's possible prospects find that overwhelming—maybe they don't want to be that active. On the one hand, I am indeed active, so downplaying it would be misleading, and why start something with someone based on false representations? I'm unlikely to suddenly become inactive to accommodate a guy's idea of the kind of woman he wants. If a guy wouldn't be interested in an active woman, downplaying my activity level early on will only prove detrimental to both of us eventually. On the other hand, I lead a fairly active lifestyle now, without an active partner, so there's no reason I couldn't maintain an active lifestyle apart from a boyfriend. God knows I'm not looking for a running partner. I guess, ideally, I'd like someone with the same activity level, but it's not a deal-breaker.

OK—I'll tackle the issue from a different angle this time around. Instead of changing the "About Me" or some of the sections describing my interests, I'm adding to "About My Match": "We don't need to have identical interests--I'm open to just about any kind of pastime, from arts to cooking to reading to sports, and I like to keep my interests constantly expanding." Flexible, aren't I? Who could say no? Besides the 2,800 or so (in Match alone!) who already have, that is.

Dec. 13, 2003: Tinkering

2005-06-02T08:34:00.000-05:00

Did a little toying around with my MM profile today—revealed my income and upped my appearance from "I look like anyone else walking down the street" to "Above average looks." Maybe I'll turn up in more searches now—searches conducted by superficial people overly concerned with money and looks. I also changed my political inclination from the "Liberal—we need some changes" option to "Liberal on social issues, conservative on fiscal issues." Not entirely accurate but perhaps a little less radical-sounding. And I decided to leave the question about the annoying personal habits of others unanswered.
***
Got a response from heebs1, the Cubs fan who sounds like he might be controlling (see, I don't fear that quality because I'm uncontrollable). Tim moved here from Minnesota 3.5 years ago with his girlfriend—they've since broken up. Loves Chicago, and baseball is his passion. He says I seem like a "very athletic type person." Hmmm—time to edit the ole Match profile again? He did describe my spring training and post-season baseball travels as "very cool," though. I'll respond tomorrow, but I noticed some things when looking at his profile again. He's Mormon, for instance. I'm not quite sure what the implications of that are, but they concern me, nonetheless. Of course, bigamy would take some of the pressure off of me, I guess. Also, he's divorced, so he's had two very serious relationships (the wife and the girlfriend he moved with) that didn't last—why? I don't have high hopes for this guy, but I might as well go through the motions. My judgment is far from sterling.

Dec. 12, 2003: Mentors and mullets

2005-06-01T08:40:00.000-05:00

Over in MM, I have an email from BOOKLOCK256. He's on the short side, at 5'9"-5'10", but calls himself a "recovering lawyer," who quit cold turkey to pursue freelance writing, and boasts of a 1,000+ book library. In-ter-esting. Ah—the rest of his profile reveals that he drinks "like a fish," is usually late, and says he's "the spitting image of TV's Ray Romano." He's a self-described procrastinator, lives with roommates, and wants kids. And then he writes: "I'm pretty sure that my pathetic golf game, iffy driving skills, and the couple inches in height I'd be spotting you wouldn't make for a great date." In other words, he's only looking for some career transition advice. "I'd be happy to buy a few drinks for advice," he adds. Sorry, friend—it's not mentor.com.

EH sent a new match—Mike is 33, 6'2", lives in the western suburbs, and has a son. He wears a sombrero in one of his photos but at least he has photos. He mentions the son several times but also writes "while my son is very important to me, I only see him two weekends a month. I feel this leaves plenty of time to pursue other interests and meet new people." Nice how he's managed to fit his son in around his other interests. Now that's what I call fatherhood. I'm going to leave him be.

Three Yahoo Icebreakers. Chivalryliveshere has his two daughters in his photo—nice, but a turnoff. Suretopleaseyou is sure to be too short—5'9". Sircelticknight smokes, lives almost an hour away, wears a tank top in one photo, and uses a blurry, Photoshop border effect on another. He might be the proud owner of some plugs, too. Yes—I'm a bitch. But the guy couldn't even drop me a note, so I don't owe him any consideration. At least that's how I look at it.

Mike replied to my thank-you note with a pink slip—just a "you're welcome" and "made it out of Green Bay alive." Of course, my thank-you didn't refer to meeting up again, either. So we're both ambivalent, apparently.

Other than that, there's not much going on. I've tackled most of my Christmas shopping, so now I'll turn to my other shopping. It almost seems foolish—even if I get a bite, will anyone really be able to meet before the holidays? If not, can I keep interest going over the holidays with someone? Well, I'll take one or two more shopping outings but go on hiatus around the 19th until 2004.

Over in Match, I have quite a few winks, but none with any merit, whether because of age, location, or just the fact they couldn't write. Match tells me that I've been browsed (sounds ticklish, doesn't it?) 2,867 times. Wow—that's a whole lot of guys who didn't like what they saw in my profile. Well, Match came up with about 230 guys who fit my criteria, so someone should stand out. Besides Pot-Smoking Mike, who of course pops up on the first page.

Hah! This guy is 6'8" (there is such a thing as too tall) and has a long mullet, but his text is great:

"Chicks dig me because I rarely wear underwear. Romance is my middle name, and enchanted evenings in the tub, with me shaving your legs and you shaving my back are a favorite of mine. I hate my job as a hot dog vendor, so it would be cool if you had some cash for us to enjoy. I often find myself spending weekends searching for that missing back-issue of Captain Kryptonite, or donning my Spock ears and heading off to the local trek convention. 'Live long and prosper.'

I'm looking for a hottie who enjoys the finer things in life - Pop-tarts, Silly-putty, The Captain and Tenile. I tend to be very attracted to well-defined knees. I have enough flab for both of us, so you should be skinny. Please describe yourself in detail if you want a response ..."

One guy in Match held some promise, as a Cub fan who loves the lakeshore, exercising, eating out, and theater. At the same time, he writes, "I do like my independence and do like to go out with my friends without you." Not a problem. But then he writes:

"A person that loves & likes me for who I am. You will be a person that likes doing the things that I like doing. No photo, no response. You are an attractive, fun, beautiful person that is very independent but at the same time totally into being with me."

His tone is horribly abrasive, and he sounds a bit controlling, if not needy. And yet, I'm considering writing because I think I fit a lot of his criteria:

"You like to go out to eat, go to movies, go to a ballgame on occasion, go out and have a drink every once in a while and just have fun being with me. You also like to take long walks on the lakefront holding hands. You love my company and being with me, but I am not your only source of entertainment. You also go out with your friends without me. You are also looking to get married within the next couple of years."

But reading on, I see he actually lives across from Wrigley Field, with roommates. Isn't he a little old for that, at 38? May as well write—it's not like I'm going to marry the guy. I probably won't even get a reply, so no need to bother with such minutiae. In fact, I'm going balls-out, even revealing that I went to more than 40 Cubs games this year, including playoffs and spring training. That should freak him out.

I ended up reaching out to three Match guys. I wasn't very forgiving as far as location but made concessions for guys with kids and roommates. That's something, right? I'll widen my search in 2004, but I'm also hoping the new year will prompt some new people to enroll. I'm seeing a lot of familiar faces in the profiles.

Dec. 11, 2003: Holiday lull?

2005-05-31T07:44:00.000-05:00

Yeah! It's only 8:45am, and I just received an email from Joe. He captioned it "Hey! Hey!" (in response to my caption of "Hey!") and wrote:

"Barb,I had a good time as well. It was refreshing to meet someone like you. I'll give you a call and see if we can set something up for next week.
Joe"

Being me, I'm of course wondering what "someone like you" means, but I'm pushing my focus away from that term and over to "refreshing." At the same time, I can't let myself get carried away over "promises" about calling and setting something up for next week, lest the lessons from Barry go ignored. It'd be great to see him again, though—I felt a charge running through me after the other night, and it's been quite a while. Cautiously optimistic.

My week has been hectic, with visits to a friend in the hospital, a client lunch, and, oh yeah, work. I need to squeeze in some shopping, both figuratively (on the dating sites) and literally (Christmas is only two weeks away!). I can't imagine this is a fertile time for starting anything online, as everyone enters holiday crunch time. Who has time to meet strangers? Or let me change that—who desirable has time to meet strangers?

And yet, I have three emails waiting in MM. One came from Alabama, and the other from a woman in Phoenix. Turns out she's promoting another site, www.seaoflove.com. Please, Amy—I'm busy enough with MM, Match, Yahoo, and EH. Thanks for thinking of me, though.

Hah! I opened the Alabama email for the hell of it, and it's one of those Nigerian scams. Barrister Williams Okukedi seeks my assistance (and my bank account) to access $8 million in proceeds, which he will of course split evenly with me. Probably makes more sense to try this scam in these sites than just making random email assaults.

Dec. 10, 2003: Etiquette matters

2005-05-27T08:18:00.000-05:00

OK, confession time—I just sent Mike an email. Not because I'm trying to force anything there; I just don't want to be rude, and it would be rude not to thank him after he picked up the check. My message was brief and didn't even refer to getting together again:

"Hi, Mike--Just wanted to drop a quick note and thank you for Saturday evening. I'm usually much more prompt about these things, but it's been a crazy week.

Hope you managed to have some fun in Green Bay!

Barb"

***

No response from Mike. No surprise.

I also should 'fess up to firing off an email to Tim last night, after I returned from my audition with Joe. I captioned it "Thanks" and wrote:

"Dinner last night was great. Oh, wait--you never called.

Just so you know, meeting someone online doesn't excuse you from common courtesy. If you change your mind about getting together with someone, you owe it to them to let them know, even if you lie about why. There's noexcuse for leaving someone hanging."

I felt good about sending it last night, with a few glasses of wine coursing through my veins, and I feel good about it today, with nothing but coffee, diet Coke, and water sloshing about in me.

Dec. 9, 2003: Sparks?

2005-05-26T08:11:00.000-05:00

Joe called last night—a nice surprise. I was sitting on my couch, with my head draped back over a cushion, thinking about how my current prospects were dwindling. I was considering (and dreading) logging on my computer at 10pm to do a little shopping. The phone rang around 8:45pm, and Caller ID showed it was Joe. We chatted for 20 or 25 minutes, laughing a lot. Nothing too heavy, but fun and easy. I realized I was smiling throughout the conversation, and something made me think that he was doing the same on the other end of the line. I hoped he would suggest an audition; I wasn't going to go there myself. So I was gratified when he asked if I'd like to meet for a drink this week. We settled on tonight, at Charlie's (where else? I'm having such great luck there, after all). Busy day today, but I'm looking forward to it, if only to ask him what he means by "wild weekend."
***
Wow! I had a great audition with Joe, possibly the best I've ever had. What's sad is that past experiences warn me not to get the least bit excited—I've learned the hard way that people say all kinds of things they don't mean and that people can just disappear. Nonetheless, I'm going to let myself enjoy this, if only for the night.

We agreed to meet at 7pm, but I was a little late because I couldn't find my umbrella. He was standing at the bar, pint glass full in front of him. He wore thin-wale brown cords with a braided belt and a dark button-down shirt. I was running behind while getting ready, so I just grabbed jeans and a loose red sweater. I wasn't sure if he would sport a goatee or not because his profile has photos with and without—he did have the goatee, peppered with some strands lighter (OK—grayer) than his brown hair. His face had character, almost craggy, but not that extreme—more character than age. He has a great smile and we just talked and talked, with very few pauses. I really like his voice, which sounded familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"I have to ask," I finally said. "You're voice sounds so familiar. Do you ever hear that?"

"Uh, yeah," he responded, looking sheepish. He hesitated and then said, "Is it Dennis Miller?"

And, yes, it was indeed Dennis Miller. But, as I told him, his voice has a happy flavor, as opposed to Miller's cynical edge. It fits his attitude, which seems positive for the most part, although, like me, he's not a big fan of winter. He also admitted to sometimes getting down around Christmas but said that living in the city apparently had cured that ailment over the past few years.

We talked about all kinds of things, including the standard background info. What was great, though, was we how exchanged that info. Instead of the standard Q&A, it came out by telling stories. He told me about burning down his family garage as a kid; I told him about my neighbor's mother catching us making smoking screens with matches and how I wrote my mother a letter of apology that closely echoed the Act of Contrition. I told him about unwittingly digging up a neighbor’s dead cat; he told me about digging up the ashes of the previous owner's wife in his yard. Like our phone calls, we laughed a lot. Unlike our phone calls, I found myself looking him in the eye quite a bit. He admitted to being non-political, although he was reading a Howard Dean flier when I arrived, but, hey—I can mold that. He talked about sending his 13-year-old to boarding school for high school—gotta like that.

We stayed at the bar until after 9pm, and, history be damned, I was feeling pretty confident. Maybe that was because he asked me about my weekend plans at one point. Our plans this weekend conflict, but when we were going our separate ways out on Clark Street, he said it was great to meet me and "Let's definitely get together again."

"Absolutely!" I responded.

"Not this weekend, I guess, but soon," he said. I couldn't agree more, Joe.

Then he went in for the handshake, I went in for the hug, and we ended up (at long last!), kissing. Nothing major, but I'll take what I can get. I hesitate to add this, but I practically skipped home. A fantastic mood blanketed me and still hasn't let go. Could that have been spark I felt? Would I even recognize it?

I did ask Joe about the whole "wild weekend" thing. He said he'd never actually had one, but he figured he should make himself appear open to anything in his profile. He also claimed to have thrown his profile up a couple years ago and never checked it again. Ri-i-ght.

Again, I'm probably making myself much too vulnerable here, but I do believe I'll hear from him. And he paid for our drinks, so I will definitely email a thank-you. We actually talked a bit about how rude people can be online, with dropped communications and outright lies. I said that I was raised with a real emphasis on common courtesy, and it always surprises me when others are so careless with their treatment of people. He agreed wholeheartedly, and it does seem that we were raised with similar values. He mentioned that, for example, he's always on time, that it's just considerate. Yes, it is, Joe! I couldn't agree more! So, anyway, I want to believe that he wouldn't mislead me.

I know it may be short-lived, but I'm going to bed tonight feeling good.

Dec. 8, 2003: Refresher course needed

2005-05-25T09:04:00.000-05:00

It'd be so easy to email Mike today, with references to the Bears/Packers game and, of course, thanking him for the drinks on Saturday night, but I won't. If he's interested, he knows how to contact me. I think I'll take the same approach with Joe. I expressed my interest in meeting; he can follow up if he feels the same way.

Actually, though, last night I gave some thought to Joe's profile. He wrote that he's looking for anything from a good phone call to a wild weekend to a long-term relationship. While I'm ultimately seeking the LTR (am I really? and, if so, am I looking of my own volition?), a wild weekend sounds awfully good. I could use that, so I'm considering proposing it to him. If he contacts me, that is—I do want to wait and see if he reaches out. I feel like I need a refresher course in how to be physical with someone (I wonder if Discovery Center offers any courses on that), and this could do the trick.

I don't hesitate to be the aggressor with someone with whom I'm already in a relationship, but I'm downright wimpy about it with someone who's merely a date. I've demonstrated time and time again that I can read a guy's level of interest in me about as well I read Braille. How devastating would it be to misread a guy's interest, make a move, and be shot down? No thanks.
***
Tim never called about dinner tonight. I don't especially care—I'm ambivalent about meeting him and have been all along, and I'm happy to spend the night at home. The rudeness continues to amaze me, though. Do people think that meeting via the Internet means expectations of manners and decency are discarded? I suspect the lack of civility perpetuates itself, too—"it's been done to me, so I'll do it to others."

I do have three more emails from over the weekend. From Match, imafreespirit writes to point out that we have similar interests. And are both tall. He's 27, though, and lives in Charleston, Illinois, a berg I don't know. He also wants two kids.

Traveltoomuch (Curtis) wrote again in Yahoo. Not much to it—just some travel talk and mentioning that he's currently working too many hours to check the Web site often. Uh, why sign up then? Anyway, I replied with some travel talk of my own, then tried to steer the conversation into a more personal vein, asking where he had relocated from, why, and how he likes Chicago. I predict a dragged-out, superficial exchange and no eventual meeting.

I won't suggest meeting, though. I'm shying away from the early meetings for a while. If you haven't emailed a bit or spoken on the phone, it makes it too difficult to find good topics of conversation at an audition. The audition becomes an interview—where are you from, where did you go to school, how many siblings, etc. And that leads to boredom, which isn't likely to produce a strong desire to meet again, let alone that elusive spark. Better to get the background information out of the way before you even meet.

The other email in Yahoo came from owingsruleo. He's a 5'9" flight attendant, with what looks like a large dirt stain under his bottom lip. He asks what I'm looking for in a man, despite the fact I spell it out pretty explicitly in my profile. Not that it matters—I'm keeping a wide berth of metrosexuals for a while.

Two Yahoo Icebreakers. One is from a conservative 45-year-old suburbanite who doesn't drink and looks to be about two-thirds of my weight. The other guy is 5'9", 43, and wearing a wife-beater shirt in his photo (below his goatee). He lives with roommates and signs off his profile with "Chow!" Not a bad idea. Think I'll start dinner.

Dec. 7, 2003: Letting go

2005-05-24T08:35:00.000-05:00

This morning, emails await me from Greg M. and James. I feel nauseated again, but it could be the after-effects of the Mexican food I inhaled at dinner with Libby yesterday. Greg merely thanked me, wished me luck, and asked me to keep him in mind. I think James' message will be harder to digest, telling me how agonizing he found the other night and that things won't work out—no shit—but I'm wary of how he'll do so. Well, let's just see what he has to say:

"Okay barb, I thought that was a lot of fun. See! You thought *you*would give too much information :-) Really, did enjoy it, oh so much more than the pizza night. Definitely a little chemistry happening on my part. On reflection, I'm thinking that the right way to get over the 'interview', is to make it a real interview. A lunch, coffee, or after-dinner thing. Something about dinner is oppressive. So I'm gone next weekend, then have my daughter for two weeks, but --if you can hold out that long -- I'd love to get together again next year. Let's talk then.
Best, James."

Gre-e-at. Doesn't that figure? I finally rope someone in, and it turns out to be someone who doesn't interest me. Much as I loved his intelligence, his height, and his looks, our values and, let's be honest, sexual backgrounds thoroughly clash. God—the idea of sleeping with him makes my skin crawl, evoking nothing sexier than concerns about disease, which sucks (forgive my choice of words). Of course, he did refer to repeated incidents of impotence, so maybe I’m not missing out on anything. And his interest probably stems only from seeing me as a challenge—can he corrupt me?

I owe him an honest response:

"Hey, James--Thanks for writing and for a fun evening. And it was fun, but, in the long run, I don't think things would work out for us. I really like your intelligence, your looks, and, frankly, your height, but I think our backgrounds and values are too different. I have to say, I guess I'm more nice and wholesome than I realized, and I don't foresee that changing.

Thanks for a good time, though, and best of luck in your future. Hope you have a great time with Amelia and a wonderful holiday season!

Barb"

So I now have turned away two guys in two days. Can I really afford to do that? From a strictly business perspective, these are probably unwise moves, but I'm not willing to compromise this much. Granted, a grating voice and a wild sexual past are widely divergent on the scale of unacceptability, but I guess I'm still holding out for a situation with less compromise.

James replied to my email shortly after I sent it:

"Okay, I can see that. (See! you are wholesome -- in addition to being beautiful and clever -- wholesomeness was never my long suit :-) I do hope to bump into somewhere later down the road of life. Best to you too, and happy holidays!

James."

I can't believe I'm shunning someone who thinks I'm beautiful and clever and actually wants to pursue things, without me having to ask. But I am.

I'm feeling kind of ambivalent about the online dating thing these days. Not rejected so much as hopeless, with maybe a smidgeon of defeated. I don't seem to hit it off with anyone. Maybe I just don't have what it takes. I've met six guys so far, and nothing mutual has developed. I guess six auditions aren't really that many, but I'd probably go on hiatus if not for the project. Last week, I had dinner with a single friend (who shall remain nameless) who raised a theory that struck a nerve with me. She told me how she'd never really had a lot of boyfriends, from grade school on to now, and that she'd recently begun to think that maybe she's meant to be alone. She prefaced this disclosure by saying, "You're going to laugh, but … " How could I laugh, though, when I've entertained the same thought so many times?

Plus, the longer it gets since I last dated Andy, the more difficult it is to imagine moving from the audition and initial dates phase to a relationship stage. I'm not sure I remember how. It reminds me of my friend Maggie's fear of flying. She lives in New Jersey now, and although she returns to Chicago fairly often, she and her husband usually drive here. He wanted to fly her home during the Cubs playoff hoopla, but she declined, in large part out of fear. I think that the longer she goes between flights, the worse that next flight, whenever it is, will be. Any gains she's made in the past as far as handling her anxieties ebb away as time goes by without another flight; I think the same can be said for my anxieties about entering relationships. The enormity of the anxieties begins to overshadow the payoffs that wait beyond them.

I enjoyed my last relationship, but enough time has passed that I'm back to my regular life, and I like it. I liked it before, and I like it now. So why even bother with dating? Do I continue to look for a match because I'm bowing, consciously or not, to societal pressures and expectations? Am I just a conformist at heart? Is it any easier to submit myself to the pain of searching for a match than to live with feeling harshly judged or at least out-of-the-ordinary? Especially when I compare my degree of happiness to that of the typical purveyor of the ostracism I occasionally encounter?

That's enough for now. I'm going for a run and then spending some well-deserved downtime on my couch, surrounded by the Sunday paper and watching the Bears game. It looks like a nice day for December, too, perfect for Christmas tree shopping.

Dec. 6, 2003: A study in contrasts

2005-05-23T08:35:00.000-05:00

James and I are not a match. Last night wasn't a disaster or anything, but it established that we're not right for each other. It'd be like pairing Marie Osmond and Mick Jagger—they share some things in common, but their fundamental differences are too great. Actually, I think David Bowie may be more appropriate than Mick Jagger. And Marie Osmond is probably overstating my wholesomeness, but you get the idea.

Yes—I emerged from the evening feeling more wholesome and nice (as James had described me) than I'd ever imagined, but only in comparison to James, his ex-wife, and their many lovers (both before, during, and after their marriage)—married people, his or her students, and anyone else with whom sex would seem inappropriate. Don't get me wrong—my moral barometer isn't as strictly calibrated as might be expected after 19 years of Catholic schooling. But a distinct pattern of choosing inappropriate partners emerged from James' stories, a pattern that could be indicative of some degree of deviance—at least a greater degree than works for me. I worry about how his daughter will turn out—I'm thinking pregnant by 16.

I arrived at James' place a little before 7pm. I'd stopped at my local fruit market to pick up some ingredients for the mojitos; the mint plays an especially important role in the cocktails. Unfortunately, as someone who doesn't haunt the produce section very often, my ability to discern one leafy vegetable (or is it a fruit?) from another is about as developed as a gymnast's chest. We never did figure out what leafy substance I actually brought over, but suffice it to say mojitos were unceremoniously booted from the menu. Instead, James made himself a margarita (a rather time-consuming process when you're determined to squeeze your own lime juice), which he insisted I try. As always, the smell of tequila triggered that horrible, filling-up-from-below feeling in my throat, so James mixed up a concoction of rum, 7UP, and lime juice for me.

His apartment was much like James himself, simple and straightforward, nothing particularly telling at first glance. But a second, more sweeping look takes in the bare top of the wooden desk, with only a sleek black laptop, and skeletal wooden bookshelves, bulging with non-fiction and an entire shelf dedicated to artfully arranged bottles of imported liquor (sadly, that type of taste is wasted on me—Bacardi is more than swanky enough). A few pieces of native art mingled with his daughter's artwork, and copies of the The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books littered the tabletops. He flushed when I pointed out the issue of Consumer Reports slipping out from his pile of mail.

Once the cocktail-making production was completed, we moved to his dining area, and, although his brown leather couch beckoned from no more than 10 feet away, he sat us at his wooden table, on his wooden, cushion-less chairs. He turned on some music (nothing I'd ever heard of, of course), and I choked down my drink, diluting it with large gulps from my water glass, as we chatted away. I mentioned my mother's past bouts with manic depression, which led James to a story about his ex's boyfriend, who also suffered from the illness. It was a long story with many digressions, heavily peppered with references to affairs, lovers, and "fucking." And ending with suicide. Cheers!

The stories and snippets he told so off-handedly sounded to me like scenes from a sophisticated British sex farce, with relationships and dalliances so plentiful and criss-crossed as to be absurd and comical—surely no one actually lives like this. But apparently they do. For someone who writes in his profile that disconnected sex doesn't work for him, he seems to have had a lot of disconnected sex.

Eventually, after at least an hour and not a crumb of food to be seen, I mentioned that I hadn't eaten much during the day, so we returned to the kitchen. The whole dinner aspect of the evening was more unplanned than I expected, not that it mattered. We ended up making fish tostadas with black beans, cheese, and snap peas on homemade tortillas. The tortillas were my contribution—he had me working the, I guess, corn meal into a batter and pouring it onto a Teflon tostada press, while he occasionally lifted a glass of wine to my lips. "Did you know they sell pre-made tortillas?" I asked. "A dozen for about 60 cents?" Making the dinner was rather fun, though, and could even have carried a romantic quality (along the lines of the pottery scene in "Ghost," perhaps), but it really didn't, although we laughed quite a bit. And, of course, there's the fact that I don't like 1) fish, 2) black beans, or 3) snap peas. Didn't want to come off as picky, so I just ate it all in peace. I love Mexican food, but this wasn't Mexican food I'd ever order.

I got home at 11:45pm, realizing that James' sexuality scares me, frankly, in a number of ways. He's definitely more casual about sex than I, which isn't necessarily a huge deal but the "five years I was queer," as he described them—well, I just don't know if I could get past that. Or would want to. He talked about so many different partners that, even though I knew going in we wouldn't end up sleeping together last night, I was intimidated, if only because I couldn't quite push the idea of disease from my mind. And I don't think he'll be interested in me either. Although we connected more this second time together (if you define connecting as opening up on a lot of topics), I'm clearly way too conservative, guarded, and inhibited for him. I was very, very honest, and it'll probably have the effect of turning him off; he was very, very honest, and it turned me off.

The way he talked about sex, making liberal use of the word "fucking" as a noun or verb, sucked any sexiness out of it; it was like he was talking about flossing. He obviously intellectualizes sex, but, to me, doing so robs it of any romance. For all the talk of people he slept with and his fucking escapades, I never heard him mention love or having any emotional connection with anyone. Well, other than the boy he had an "intense love affair" with through junior high and high school, that is.

He's also not masculine enough for me. He described himself, accurately, as effeminate. He doesn't look or dress it—black jeans, dark green pullover sweater (with a hole, no less) over a plaid shirt, wireless glasses. It's a shame, really—he's very good-looking. It's the way he carries himself and speaks, I think, kind of theatrical. I do not want to be the more masculine partner in a relationship.

It'll be interesting to see what transpires because he did say a couple of times that he thinks you owe someone you've met face-to-face some communication afterwards. He walked me a couple blocks over from his place to grab a cab after I said I should go, clutching my arm under his. He turned me toward him by my shoulders before placing me in the cab, and I thought he'd go in for a kiss, but I just got the gay, double-cheek thing again. He had, at one point, asked, "So what do you think? Aren't we connecting more this time?," but he also referred to his daughter's impending visit and his busy December. I think I'll probably hear from him but only to let me know he doesn't think we should pursue this any farther. He'll be right. But I'm glad we met up again so quickly; I don't regret it at all. I first contacted him last Saturday, we've met up twice, and now I know he's not of interest.

James did tell me several times that I'm beautiful and stunning, etc., etc., etc. According to him, I could walk into any bar and "get laid." Needless to say, I don't believe that, and, even if it was true, I've unfortunately never been able to be so random about sex. I wish I could. Damn these morals. Oh, well—James' no-holds-barred sex life definitely is not for me. I'll stick with my nice white-bread family and friends, happily inhaling their bakery-fresh wholesomeness (or at least their appearances of wholesomeness—who knows what goes on behind closed doors?).

So, back to the trenches. I saw an EH communication this morning. I assumed it was from Roger, taking his own sweet time with the process. I don't know whether he's disinterested or not, but it could be that he travels a lot for work—he asked in one of his questions how often I need to see someone I'm dating, plus he mentioned having accrued a lot of flight and hotel miles. Anyway, the communication wasn't from him. It was from a guy, John of Orland Park, who I haven't heard from since we exchanged must-haves and can't-stands in mid-October. Almost two months later he responds, with answers of no more than four words (he takes the term "short-answer" seriously), and he thinks I'll be receptive? Uh, no—I don't think so. EH also sent a new match, but he'd closed me out by the time I went to the site.

I finally settled on how to handle the Greg M. coffee situation. I can't go through with it, but of course I wasn't so brutally honest with him. Instead, I wrote:

"Hi, Greg--Thanks for the nice compliments. It was good to talk to you, too.Unfortunately, I'm having some luck on other dating fronts right now, so Ithink I'm going pass on the coffee (although I appreciate yourwillingness to come to my neighborhood).

Best of luck in your search!Barb"

So that's wrapped up, hopefully with a minimum of pain for him.

And Mike from Match called this morning. I was in the middle of working out, as well as already on my other phone with Libby. I called him back, and we didn't speak for too long, but long enough that it was a welcome contrast to last night. Just from our short conversation, I could tell Mike is much more masculine than James. I broke all rules and made no efforts to hide my sports knowledge, speaking openly of my hatred for the Minnesota Vikings and my Cubs tickets. We made plans to meet at Bar Louie near Wrigley Field at 7pm. Should be quite different from my Friday night.
***
What a contrast indeed! I don't think Mike and James could be much more different. Mike is all man. Perhaps a little too much hair product going on, but from his carelessly rolled-up shirtsleeves to his fingernail bruised while playing hockey, you'd be hard pressed to find a trace of the effeminate. And he didn't talk about subjects that would be uncomfortable to discuss with someone you barely know. We talked a lot about sports—I shamelessly cast aside my "limit the sports talk" self-admonition, even engaging in a comparison of sports-related injuries (sexy and feminine, ay?). In fact, you could say I came out with a full-court press, from the sports I participate in and watch, to my fantasy teams, to the different team hats I own. But Mike said talking about sports with a woman was great, so no harm, no foul.

We also discussed what distinguishes a fruit from a vegetable (he brought this up, but it allowed me to tell an edited version of my new mint anecdote) and tort reform (his father is a journalist who lobbies for tort reform), but our conversation was mainly about sports. In contrast (or reaction?) to my outings with James, I'd say this was the most I've talked about sports on an audition. Mike is a Bears season ticketholder and was leaving early Sunday morning to head up to Green Bay for the game. He's also a White Sox fan, but that can be worked around. He seemed like a nice guy and was good-looking, tall.

We share the Catholic school background—he's Irish Catholic, went to school and grew up in Arlington Heights. He's not intellectual, but he has a cool job he really likes with the local film industry. He's normal, not twisted or dark (not ostensibly, anyway). Together, we looked like a normal couple—both in jeans, me in standard date outfit of the yellow ribbed shirt, and he in a moss button-up shirt over a white t-shirt (my audition wardrobe has had quite the workout this week—I've gone through the yellow and black knit tops, plus the hot pink blouse). He might have been bored, though, and didn't know quite what to make of me. Most guys don't want to have to figure women out, I think.

I'd rather not speculate anymore about whether a guy was interested (I'm also at a point where my thoughts tend more toward, "Ugh. Whatever."). We shared a cab after we left the bar around 8:45pm, but he didn't say anything when he climbed out about meeting again or talking soon. I think I'd like to see him, but the ball is in his court, to carry through the sports metaphors. I don't want to email him, but he did pay the bill and I truly believe it's rude in that case not to send a thank-you (I don't wield that rule just as an excuse to initiate contact, even though it often works out that way). Maybe in a day or two. I need to realize that even though I might think that rude, others probably think nothing of it. I should take advantage of that, and now is as good a time as any.

I don't have much in the works now. I'm supposed to have dinner with Tim on Monday night, but I haven't heard from him. I shot down Greg M. Joe might call again, but who knows.

Dec. 5, 2003: Contradictions

2005-05-20T08:51:00.000-05:00

Greg II emailed last night about meeting for coffee. I was hoping he wouldn't follow through on that threat. And he was very flattering ("Considering you look naturally beautiful in your pictures, in addition to being tall, highly educated and successful, I would like very much to meet for coffee after work.") and offered to come to my neighborhood. But our phone call did absolutely nothing for me. I don't know what to do.

I received an email from a new guy on Match. He wrote:

"So it's early Thursday evening, what better to do than try to meet a complete stranger over the internet? I liked your profile, and if you ask me, I'd tell you that I have the sense of humor and approach to life you may be looking for, among other qualities."

I realized I've reached the point that I have low expectations for Match, so I was pleasantly surprised to see this guy, Mike, posted cute photos. He's 37, lives in the city, and his profile reads well, too. Ah—he wants kids "someday." So I guess I'll send the always-lyrical "I don't … who knows what might have been?"

Over in Yahoo, eight Icebreakers await me (several are lodged in the winks section on Match, too, but for some reason, I've stopped checking those). I'm going to scan these, just to move through them. Good Lord, one guy posted a shirtless photo of himself holding a camera, presumably taking the very photo I had the good fortune to see. He's not exactly buff—why go shirtless? Another photo shows him and a woman—well, a silhouette of a woman. She's been blocked out. Nice.

Another guy, passionatecoach, writes that "Personal growth/spirituality is a big focus in my life, and I've integrated that into my career where I empower people to make their dreams a reality." Well, for God's sake, why would you just send an Icebreaker, rather than write an actual email, if you're so empowered? "I love to connect with people," he writes. And yet …

In MM, I've received one email, from NEVERTELL447. He's 46-50, lives in Naperville, and posts no photo. I won't even bother detailing his poor spelling. Oh, and he's married. And quite conservative—how conservative can you be if you're married and still trolling online? He's not a pig, though—he's "seeking an occasional lover/casual relationship." Where do I sign? That sounds great.

Hmmm. Mike from Match replied:

"I'm not dead set on having kids, I've made it this far in my life without them, so... I'm just not opposed to having them. I guess I just wanted to say to you something to the effect of - if you are interested I would hate for the whole being a mother thing to be a deal breaker, I'm more of the thought that I need to be happy in a relationship that I think is going somewhere before the thought of children even enters the equation... make sense? Hopefully...

Having said that, if you're interested, I would still like to meet you, and if not, well I wish you the best."

Besides the fact that it's always a positive when someone with a good profile wants to meet, I'm awfully intrigued by his admission that he's not dead set on having kids, just not opposed. Classic marketing ploy—his profile plays to his audience ("women all want kids, right?"). I suspect a lot of guys feel this way. Or, at least, I want to believe that. Anyway, I'll reply. After all, who can pass up someone who describes himself as "sometimes sarcastic, often funny, never boring"? Especially when he's 6'3"? Of course, after getting James' post-audition critique, now I'm paranoid about coming off as guarded and stiff. Geez—that's so like me. Why can't I seize on the stuff about being smart and attractive? Whatever.

Speaking of James, tonight is our oddly-arranged date. I'm a little sluggish today, though, after the wine tasting last night, so a nap might be in order. I generally don't allow naps during the day—I do work, dammit!—but I can make an exception when so much is on the line. I'm kidding about that (really!), but the whole thing with James is truly bizarre. I can't imagine how things will go tonight. Frankly, if it goes at all well, it seems perfectly natural that we'd end up sleeping together, but for the fact that I've got my period. Anyway, I just don't know what to think going in—will this be tense ("make or break!") or relaxed ("it's so funny that we had that email exchange yesterday")?
***
Mike from Match replied, and now we're making plans to meet. Boy, am I over my original "preferred protocol." Talk about throwing all caution to the wind (I should point out that I always provide my friend Roberta with contact information on these guys before I go out with them; still, going to James' place so soon is a little over the top).

I'm torn, though, on what to do about Greg. He proposed coffee Wednesday or Thursday afternoon. Thursday is definitely out because I have a conflict, but I could do Wednesday. Should I bother? I feel badly that he "very much" wants to meet me. Was he on the same phone call? On the other hand, I think maybe I shouldn't be so cavalier—that I can't really afford to toss aside someone who's interested. What to do, what to do.
***
I'm just about ready to head over to James' for dinner. I have no idea what to expect—what will we do after dinner? Will there be all sorts of candor and heartfelt honesty? Will there be kissing? Strangely, I'm not particularly nervous. I figure I'll know in a matter of hours whether to be excited or whether to move on and not look back. Our email exchange was certainly unusual, especially as we barely know each other, but the lack of game playing is refreshing.

While I was primping for tonight, I also was mulling the Greg-coffee situation. I was 95 percent of the way to agreeing to meet—how horrible can coffee be? But then I remembered his voice. I just can't imagine listening to that on a regular basis. I'll wait until tomorrow morning to respond, but I've totally flipped and now am leaning heavily toward politely declining. I would never not reply, though.

Mike from Match asked if I wanted to get together for a drink tomorrow night! Saturday night! It's then or next Thursday. My schedule is becoming rather hectic—going out tomorrow would make five consecutive nights. My newspapers are piling up, not to mention my magazines. But I do like to get on with things. He's already left his office but sent me his cell number. I'll wait until tomorrow and see how I feel. My friend Libby and I are taking in a matinee at the Steppenwolf tomorrow, so I'll already be out and about. We'll see.

Dec. 4, 2003: A decided lack of click

2005-05-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

I almost told James last night about my self-admonition not to talk with food in my mouth, after he asked me a question while my mouth was otherwise engaged, gnawing away on four different cheeses, sauce, and crust. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

For the first time in quite a while, I arrived at the audition location first, but I didn't need to wait long. I was seated at the bar and paying for my drink when I saw James walk past the door and the icy picture window of Huettenbar. "Looks good," I thought, as I watched him turn around and head back to the door. He reminded me of someone, someone cute (I've since realized it's Craig Kilborne). He came in and moved directly to the bar, several stools down from me, coming over after I waved at him. A tall drink of water indeed—until he sat down, I could almost imagine that he was breathing cleaner air, with his head stretching above the clouds of unfiltered cigarette smoke. "Hi. I'm James." I laughed and said, "Barb."

I definitely liked the looks of him. He's a bit thin, young-looking, with brownish blond hair (and I'm not generally a fan of blondes), smallish glasses (he rested those in front of him most of the time, but I liked them on, too), hazel eyes. Plaid shirt, dark pants, high tops. Leather jacket, possibly on the faggy side. In fact, I saw a jacket at Walgreen's today that reminded me of James'. I could see why he described himself in his profile as sometimes flamboyant, although I think effeminate might be more accurate, sitting with his legs crossed most of the time and gesticulating quite a bit. But, overall, I was very happy with his looks and thought he was better looking than in any of his photos.

We went through the typical job history, background-type stuff. Again, I think I was nervous, kind of jabbering initially. Maybe it's because these auditions can be so like a job interview at first. He claims to be new to Match, having heard about it from his ex-wife, among others. They've been separated for three years, and it sounded like she cheated on him while they were married, so he doesn't seem like he still has issues there. I wasn't his first Match meet-and-greet, thank God.

When we were preparing to leave the bar and go grab dinner, he told me my photos don't do me justice. Being me, I couldn't just say "Thank you" or "That's so nice of you to say," like a normal person. Instead, I told him that I'd been thinking the same thing about him. And then went off on some tangent about the guy who wrote that he loved my "read" dress, and how you're not supposed to consider spelling but it's hard not to, etc., etc. But could I just leave it at that? Nooooo. On the walk to the restaurant, I felt compelled to say, "So, you don't like my photos, huh?"

As far as dinner, James first suggested a German place across the street. I nixed that, as German food turns my stomach, but I suppose I should have just gone with it. We settled on an Italian/pizza place I've actually wanted to visit since I saw it reviewed on the local PBS affiliate. And you know I dropped that reference in there—"Hey, look at me! I watch PBS!"—even though I rarely watch that channel.

We were seated quickly, and he suggested we order some wine and took charge as far as selecting a bottle, which I like. He looked at me very intently throughout the whole evening, especially at the restaurant, to the point that I worried about glanced away too often. He doesn't like football, apparently connecting it to being picked on in his youth, spent primarily in Houston, with a one- or two-year respite in Connecticut. He said he preferred baseball, but that doesn't necessarily translate to liking baseball.

In all, we only spent about two hours together, but it seemed longer, in a good way. He spoke about his ex-wife and daughter a fair amount, but not too much and it always made sense in the context of the conversation. I asked about the daughter, Amelia, who lives with her mom in Chapel Hill. He sees her twice a month, once down there and once in Chicago.

He walked me to my car after dinner, and I offered him a ride, even though it was only a block or two. I got the impression he'd like to stay out for a while, but I couldn't drink anymore and had an interview this morning. Also, I do want to keep these auditions shorter rather than longer. I dropped him off at a corner, and he gave me a double-cheek "kiss." "Ooh, how European," I said, like an ass. Yeah, proud of that one. He did say "It was great" and the old "We'll talk."

I hope we do. He's clearly very intelligent, and he carried himself that way. I felt like I wasn't coming off as too intelligent myself, but that's okay—it's good for me to feel that way. He's up for tenure next fall, so he should be around for a while (pull back, pull way back!). The conversation stumbled a little at times, to be expected, but, boy, did things get rolling when it moved to politics and the Bush administration. I know I can't rule out guys just because they're conservative, so I tell myself debate and discussion can be fun, but let's be real—it's much more fun getting righteously indignant with someone who shares your passion and your views. We also talked about the Catholic Church; I think we're both more about living morally than by doctrine. And, of course, we're both tall. He commented on how above-average height is the one "freakish deformity" that people believe they can comment on without fear of recrimination. "No one goes up to the fat person and asks how much they weigh," he noted.

So, of course, I'm dying to hear from him today, preferably proposing something for this weekend. Luckily, I had to go downtown this morning, which prevented me from emailing him first thing. To be honest, I fought the urge last night. I mean, I'd like to think I would never resort to that, but I must admit to feeling a desire, so to speak, to reach out almost immediately, which is new. As it is, I'm embarrassed to disclose that I emailed him a few minutes ago. I can't help myself—I just want to know ASAP if there's any point of holding out hope or whether to hang it up and move on. I told him about the Kilborne resemblance, said it was great to meet him and talk trash about the Bush administration, and sent a Reuters article about some of the revelations coming out of Neil Bush's divorce. Why, oh why, can't I play it cool? Maybe it came off as playing it cool when I drew things to a close relatively early last night? A girl can dream. So now I sit and wait. However, I do hereby solemnly swear that I will not email my next audition victim for at least two days.
***
Now that I've mulled over my emailing/predatory habits while eating lunch, I'm kicking myself for emailing James. And every other audition, for that matter. And for the other thing I did last night (stay tuned!). It's common knowledge that men like to be the pursuers, right? I must, must, must let them be. I'm serious this time, too. Serious reform is necessary, if only to regain some smidgen of dignity.

Getting back to last night, Joe called while I was out. His voice made a good first impression—warm and friendly—but maybe I'm overly sensitive to that after talking to Greg II. I debated whether to return the call because I felt slightly buzzed, but I figured I'd drunk just enough make me a more sparkling conversationalist but without slurring. Besides, I'm hitting another wine tasting tonight, so we might not have had the opportunity to talk for a while otherwise.

The conversation was nice and easy, with a lot of laughing. (Ironically, James and I had talked about how neither of us enjoys the phone-call component of the whole matching process, how excruciating it can be. And yet, I proceeded to go home and give Joe a call.) We talked for about 30-35 minutes. He lives nearby but with his 13-year-old daughter. He's one of 10 children, and his sister lives across the street from him (built-in babysitter?). He loves to cycle, and he paints, holding a Fine Arts degree that otherwise gets no use. He's had at least one relationship with someone he met online, and doesn't have many friends in the city because he moved here from Michigan City, Indiana. I somehow got myself into another religion discussion and had to laugh when he said, "You know, I get into church, and all I can think about is sex." Curious.

Anyway, and this is what I’m kicking myself for today, I drew the conversation to a close, claiming I needed to prep for my interview. He was saying we should talk again, etc., and I burst out with "Would you like to meet for a drink sometime?" He didn't seem put off, and actually said he liked having plans made before hanging up. He said he'll call me at the beginning of next week. Maybe, maybe not.

EH sent me another match—Michael, 35, Chicago—but he'd already shot me down by the time I got around to checking him out. His reason? He "would rather not say." Uh, okay. Also in EH, Roger has left me hanging. Is he just really slow with all of this (which isn't a good sign for how serious he is about it) or has he lost interest? C'mon, Rog—either respond or shut us down.
***
Well, James replied, and I must say, I feel rather nauseated right now. A long response, but a painful one:

"Hey Barb.The story is hilarious. I wonder where neal will be governor?And how was the interview? Did they bite? Are going to be touringboutiques in winetka for the next few months?

I've seen Craig Kilborne, and thought he did look like me, but no oneelse has ever pointed this out. I got over the cousin thing very fast since you're much more beautiful.

I'm an analytical kind of boy and I've been mulling over last night. I also see no reason to pussy-foot around. I hope you don't mind, but let me say there was a decided lack of 'click'. I've been trying to figure it out. I never relaxed. Did you? Don't know what that's about -- maybe just lack of sleep and foul mood on my part. Maybe non-smoking anxiety -- I'm trying, not very successfully, to quit -- I think at this point I'm going to quit trying to quit until christmasstime, when my daughter is with me for two weeks -- she helps smooth over the rough edges. Maybe it was too 'date'-like. Never could stand dating, all the way back to junior high. Whatever it was, it was a bit stiff. Don't you think? I'm curious to know if you felt the same, or if this is just an inherent part of the 'getting to know you' process. Anyway, I found it a bit frustrating. Like a fish, I need to get below the surface quickly.

You're smart as a tack and you look absolutely fantastic, I just feelI don't know you a lot better than I did before. Who is Barb ****? What does she want in life? etc, etc. We clearly have some common interests, and some 'un'common ones... You're more developed than me athletically, clearly, but I do love to hike and the outdoors and all that; I just don't do football. I'm maybe a bit more neurotic than you, less nice, less wholesome, more pottymouthed. And you're clearly a bit more guarded than I am. That's all very surface. Not clear that there is a way to get around it, but perhaps we should try again, if you're willing to give it a go. Maybe we could meet up in the new year, after I'm through the smoking bullshit and the holiday craziness has past. I'd like to meet 'bad Barb'.

Either some wierd theater, or a bracing walk in the woods, I think. Maybe eating in, instead of out. Something more relaxed. Something to get other neurons firing.

Hope this isn't too much crap to send in an email, but as I said before, what's the point of not getting to the point?

Let me know if you think the same.

Best, James."

I didn't even read the whole thing at first, just skimmed it. Liked the part about me being beautiful and not pussy-footing around—naively thinking he couldn't resist an overwhelming urge to ask me out again—until I glanced at "the decided lack of click." I now know what it feels like to be a tackling dummy. Did I need another confirmation that guys are lying when they say they don't need to feel a click on the first date? And what about the fact that he doesn't think he got to know me at all? So much for holding something back and creating an air of mystery. Still, though, does he really expect to come away from a "first date" knowing what I want out of life? I can at least see the humor in the fact that he thinks he's "a bit more neurotic … , less nice, less wholesome, more pottymouthed" than I. Don't bet on it, James. Once again, my instincts prove to be about as well honed as a tub of butter. But can I just say that I barely talked about "athletics" at all? Really, I mentioned having gone to the Bears game, and, when pressed, said yes, I do like football, but I prefer baseball. That was about it. Didn't even talk about the Cubs. Of all the auditions since I started, this one had the least sports talk.

I guess I should be heartened that he wrote back at all, and proposed giving it another chance (how big of him). But I don't see waiting until 2004. I probably should have taken more time before sending my reply, but, as he said, why pussyfoot around? I wrote:

"God, dating sucks. Relationships--good; dating--not so much.

I must say, your response surprised me. But I couldn't agree more--what's the point of pussyfooting around? That's why I chucked 'the rules' and went ahead and emailed you today. I just like to have at least some indication whether a guy is interested, particularly when I am. And I am.

I don't know, though--your message makes my head spin, for several reasons (of course, finding someone who can do that can be a great thing ...). First off, I think you seem great, a reel catch (pun intended). As for last night, I don't know if I ever really relaxed, but I guess I just expect first 'dates' to be like that, especially when there's minimal advance emailing, so you don't know much about each other. It can take on a job-interview quality, you know? Make or break. And I was nervous, I must admit. Also, I guess I don't get discouraged if I don't feel an immediate click--I think it can develop over time, and probably with a better long-term chance of survival, if not felt on first sight. But I find your comments on clicking really interesting because I have this theory that guys are more black-and-white, more snap-decision about these things than women. If they don't feel itimmediately, forget it.

You've also got me slapping my forehead when you say you don't know me any better. A corollary (oooh, math talk!) to my 'less is more' theory for profiles is that I talk too much on these first dates, leave no stone unturned about myself, and that I need to create more of an air of mystery, leave 'em wanting more, yadda, yadda, yadda. I clearly succeeded if you think you're more neurotic, less nice, less wholesome, and more potty-mouthed than me. Boy, did I steer you wrong! Nice and wholesome--can't say I've heard that before! You're probably right about me being more guarded, though, but once you open the spigots... As to the athletics, and smoking, I couldn't care less about that.

Anyhoo, I wrote you in the first place because I was interested in getting together again, maybe even as soon as this weekend. I was pleased to see a response, but, whoa, didn't expect quite so much heartfelt, honest feedback. I do very much appreciate getting to the point, but, honestly, now I don't know what to do. I kind of feel like if we don't feel enough sense of urgency to get together before 2004, what's the point? On the other hand, now it seems like it'd be really hard to relax the next time we get together, like there would be so much pressure, regardless of timing. Or maybe our forthrightness will have the effect of knocking down some walls and it'd be easier to talk and unwind [certainly with a little booze, anyway]. Especially since I now know you like to get below the surface quickly--I don't think that's true of a lot of guys.

A bracing walk in the woods, though, ain't gonna work--I tend to come off as frigid when I'm outside in the winter ... because I literally am frigid when outside!! Seriously, though, I'm not the best with body language and signal-sending as it is, and I'm picturing myself hunched over (posture be damned), hands buried in pockets, and it's not a very alluring image. Eating in--much more promising.

Your thoughts?"

This reminds me of the emailing Andy and I slogged through after our Valentine's Day lunch, when I was safely back in DC. As I told him at the time, it doesn't seem like it should be this much work so early on. And this is much earlier on than it was with Andy—we'd at least dated for a couple months. To my surprise, though, I did think that those long-distance, and long-winded, email exchanges with Andy really helped us when I returned to Chicago. We were much farther along than we were when we broke up the first time. But, again, James and I just met, for God's sake.

Geez, I have work to do, and now I'm completely distracted. What a pain. I already wish I hadn't responded at all. I won't be surprised if James doesn't write again. And I don't care too much—what have I invested, after all? Yet, there's a lingering feeling of, well, sadness. I wish I could just take comfort in being smart as a tack and looking absolutely fantastic, but I can't. Intelligence and looks can't keep a gal warm at night.

But, hold on—James replied. And now I'm going over to his place for dinner tomorrow night!

"Ok, I was a little nervous about sending that letter, but glad I did.

I wasn't sure if I'd get 'fuck you', silence, or something good. Got something good. I say we try the 'maybe our forthrightness will have the effect of knocking down some walls and it'd be easier to talk and unwind [certainly with a little booze, anyway]' theory. Christmas is bad, but I'm free tomorrow, if you are. I can make you dinner and give you mojitos and we can go for the more relaxed thing. Free food. Free booze. No worries. Can't be tooo bad.

Waddya think? J.

PS. Sorry for the head spinning. Stop that or you'll get dizzy."

Crazy insane, I know. But, as I say whenever I do something for which there isn't much good reason or justification, what the hell? By Saturday, or perhaps sooner, I'll know whether there's a chance or not. Get it out of the way, I say.

Dec. 3, 2003: Nails on a chalkboard

2005-05-18T08:38:00.000-05:00

Greg called last night, around 8:30pm. The word that comes to mind to describe the conversation, which lasted about 35 lo-o-ong minutes, is excruciating. He showed some sense of humor in his profile and emails, but on the phone—total dud. We spoke a little about how he'd like to try kayaking, and a lot about his latest hobby—geocaching. He goes out on weekends—just him and his handheld GPS device—and combs forest preserves and wetlands to find 35mm film canisters or similar objects of no value secreted by other "geocachers." Yep, that's what he does for fun. When he's not at the library. He mentioned the library in his profile, and his email, but I assumed he dropped by, checked out books, and left. Now I'm under the impression that he hangs out there for hours at a time. He seems—how can I put this diplomatically?—really boring.

But that wasn't the worst of it. What made the conversation truly agonizing was his painful speaking voice. I spent most of the conversation not so much listening to the boring information coming out of his mouth, as trying to put my finger on what it was that his voice resembled. At first, I thought he might be speaking in some weird dialect—he's from Alabama, so maybe they've engaged in some cross-breeding with Cajuns who wandered over from Louisiana. Then I decided his voice sounded like an automated voice, based on the voice of someone who speaks English as a second language, being downloaded from the Internet over a dial-up connection. In other words, lots of stopping and starting. And a strong emphasis on the "-ing" syllable in words like kayaking. Or boring. My speech patterns tend toward the lazy side at times as it is; talking to Greg, I could hear my voice countering his over-enunciation with my own use of "–in'" (as in, "when you use your GPS on the golf course, do the other players think you're cheatin'?").
Finally, I thought he might sound like someone with a hearing impairment, which made me feel horrible for being so nasty in formulating the other theories.

I'll never know. I drew the conversation to a close a little past 9:00pm, saying I had laundry to do (which I did, not that I planned on doing it last night). I hoped to get off the phone and leave it at that, but he jumped in and asked if I'd like to meet for coffee some time. The boring, nails-on-chalkboard conversation failed to evoke any desire in me to meet him, plus he lives a good distance away. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to come right out and say no. I ended up saying this week was bad and suggesting he email me Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. And then I'll devise an excuse to weasel out of it. I will answer him, though, and I'll be gentle, which is more than I can say about some of the guys I've encountered.

In my Yahoo mailbox, I received a response for traveltoomuch, or Curtis. He didn't give me much to work with:

"Hey Barb, Thanks for the note..

I did enjoy your profile..

Almost Everyone tell me I am too picky.. I disagree. I can't really say what I am looking for exactly, but it should be somebody that I think about when they are not around.. Somebody that I look forward to making happy... I guess that is the best way to describe it...

Enough of that....

It is always fun to meet new people..

That is great that you travel so much. Unfortunately, most of mine is with work... I love vacations, but hate to plan them..

Well, I will keep this short... Talk to you later.. Curtis"

"Talk to you later"? What kind of sign-off is that? Well, anyway, I responded by saying it wasn't picky to want to be with someone you look forward to seeing and to doing things for, blah, blah, blah. Injected a little travel talk, too. No biggie.

Jflusman wrote again today. He acknowledged he's tried once before "but would really like to chat more." More? We haven't chatted at all, nor shall we—he's married.

Nothing from Greg I. He must have been offended by my question about whether he's gone on any dates or remains wary. Just as well. I shouldn't have started up with him again, anyway. Easy for me to say when I've got an audition in half an hour.

So, yeah, I'm meeting James in a little while. Unlike the audition with Matt, which was probably the most similar as far as how limited our communication has been to this point, I don't feel ambivalent—I'm really hoping this goes well. In both directions, that is. On paper, he sounds great, even though there are a couple things that I wouldn't call ideal—his affinity for discos and self-description as "very chatty, sometimes flamboyant,” for example. Nobody's perfect, though. I could really use a good audition. Just once, I'd like to find myself instantly attracted to one of these guys or, if not instantly, by the time I'm in my car and headed home.

Notes to self, pre-audition: touch his arm a couple times; don't talk too much; don't focus on sports; show you're intelligent, fun, and funny; don't be quiet but do create some air of mystery. And don't talk with food in your mouth.

Dec. 2, 2003: A lot of balls in the air (so to speak)

2005-05-17T08:35:00.000-05:00

Where to start? Quite the onslaught of action this morning, with emails from Joe, Greg II, and James, and a new match and some renewed communication in EH. And I talked to Tim last night. It's like Christmas in, well, December.

I guess I'll start with my conversation with Tim. I waited until about 9pm to see if he'd call, but alas, he did not. He sounded happy to hear from me (although he kept yawning, which was rather disconcerting—not particularly polite), and we chatted about half an hour or so, primarily about our respective vacations. I was a bit surprised at how freely he spoke of getting "loaded" on his flights (he sat in first class—it'd be rude to turn down the free booze, after all). Maybe he assumed I'd do the same, being a Marquette grad and all. While I did succumb as far as calling him back, I managed to hold out on proposing dinner. I decided to leave that to him, and he came through. We're tentatively scheduled to have dinner in my neighborhood Monday night; he said he'd drive in from work. "Pencil me in," he said toward the end of the conversation. "Oops," I replied. "I'm actually holding a pen, but I'll grab a pencil." "No, you can go ahead and use a pen," he said, laughing. So Monday it is.

My Hawaii-induced insomnia had me up again at 2am last night. I was working on my computer when a new match came in from EH. I thought I'd just leave it until the light of day but decided to sneak a peek before I shut down. Then I realized it wasn't a match but a new communication. I don't know why, but I found myself thinking, "Could it be Roger? Nahhh." Lo and behold, it was Roger. I wrote him off a while ago, and this time I wasn't jumping the gun—more than three weeks have passed since our whirlwind Saturday morning exchange that had me so excited.

He certainly put some thought into the short answers he supplied, but did it really take three weeks to craft them? I mean, he does have an MBA from Northwestern, so I wouldn't think it'd be that arduous of a task for him. Or was it my lists of must-haves and can't-stands that caused him so much consternation? Was he mulling over whether he could satisfy and/or live with those? I suppose I should sit on the questions he sent me for a while, so it doesn't seem like I've been biding my time, waiting for him, but I'm so bad at playing it cool, especially when he doesn't want kids and EH swears on its good name that we're compatible. And what's the point? If he's turned off by a quick response and drops communication, no big deal—I'd already written him off.

Looking back at his profile, he does sound awfully good (but possibly arrogant), especially since I've recently decided what I'm really looking for is a Renaissance man. When asked about how he spends his leisure time, he writes:

"I am somewhat of a Renaissance Man. I enjoy working out, playing sports (volleyball, golf, tennis, basketball, football, biking, hiking, skiing, camping - you name it), going to the theatre, the beach, the woods, discussing the news of the day from NPR to Letterman, or just enjoying a quiet evening at home with a classic movie."

From his short answers, he appears to recognize the importance of balance in life—rather than being most proud of academic or professional accomplishments, he says he's proud that he's been able to reap his accomplishments without sacrificing personal relationships. Good, good. In response to the question about an interest of his he'd hope his partner would share, he writes about travel, both vacations and getaway weekends. He adds: "I have been blessed with enough airline miles and hotel points seemingly to last a lifetime. Care to find out just how long we could go?" Why, yes, Roger—I would.

Finally, his idea for a romantic evening with someone he's dated for more than a year definitely works for me:

"I would tailor the evening to the interests of my date. As a frequent traveller, that could mean an impromptu getaway to London, Paris, or Rome. Or, it could simply mean coming home to a prepared picnic dinner spread out on the living room floor. It might also mean a scavenger hunt around the city ending up in a luxury suite at the Drake. Anything that would allow us to be together and enjoy our relationship."

So I went ahead and answered Roger's short-answer questions of me. From the list of questions EH supplies, he asked what I'm most proud of in my life and the three best traits I have to offer a partner. He also wrote his own question: "Sometimes these questions can seem a little too imposing, so let's start with something light and easy. How was your day? Did anything interesting happen that you would like to share with me?" Maybe it'll sound passive-aggressively catty, but I replied: "Well, I'd have to say the most interesting thing to happen so far today was hearing from you. A very pleasant surprise!" It'll be interesting to see what, if anything, develops.
***
Joe wrote back, saying that he also wanted to see a play I'm planning on checking out this coming weekend ("Nickeled and Dimed," based on the book by Barbara Ehrenreich). He also said he'd just finished reading the Sedaris book "Naked." He's a freelance graphic designer and illustrator, so he's on his computer all day at work; consequently, he says he's not good about checking his email at home, so he asked if I'd like to talk sometime: "It is so much easier to getto know someone that way." He included his phone number, but you know how I feel about that—I sent him mine and told him to call when he can.

Greg II also would like to chat or maybe meet for coffee after work. He wrote a nice long email. He visited my business Web site and asked some questions about that and my career path. Also wrote about a trip out West, his cat, Palatine (who knew its library was ranked 3rd best in the country last year?), and golf. He mentioned that he does volunteer work, too—very nice. I'll write back and toss my number out to him, as well. The lunch buffet is now open!

James thinks I "sound too cool" (see what I mean about online communication creating unrealistic expectations?). We have a little inside joke (to the extent people who've never met or spoken can have inside jokes) about Karl Jung, based on his user name of talljungguy. Anyway, I mentioned in my email to him yesterday that I'd heard an NPR interview of a woman who wrote a recently published biography of Jung. Turns out James heard the same interview—gotta like that. He wants to meet and suggested a drink tomorrow night, somewhere near the L because he doesn't own a car. I wrote back and offered to meet him in his neighborhood. So, as of now, I'm waiting for phone calls from Joe and Greg M. and details on a place and time with James tomorrow night, and am scheduled for dinner with Tim on Monday.

I've also received email from a couple of Emode jokesters. Smiley_dave wrote me once before, and I believe I've already critiqued his profile. The other guy, who sends his full name and phone number, is 49, smokes, lives in Deerfield, and is wearing a necklace in his photo. I'm not big on jewelry on men.

And EH found me another match. Mike is 36, 5'11", and lives in Libertyville. Hmmm. He said he typically spends his leisure time watching TV, and for the last book he read and enjoyed, he answered "none." Mind you, not just "has not responded yet"; he actually entered "none" as his answer. Not exactly an intellectual, this Mike. And one of the things he can't live without is "sexual relationship." I think I'll pass on ole Mikey for now.
***
James just wrote, and Greg II followed right on his heels. I'd written James to let him know I had to schedule a job interview for Thursday morning, so it won't be a late, crazy night for me. I also sent an excerpt I saw online about a holiday beer available at a bar in his neighborhood. He replied that we can meet there, at Huettenbar, have a drink and then grab dinner somewhere nearby. Cool.

Greg elaborated on some of his volunteer work (Palatine Jaycees—yikes; then again, my brother is a Rotarian, although I like to keep that under wraps). He said he'll call this evening after 7pm. I'm meeting some friends for dinner at 7pm, but I shouldn't be out late, so no reason to write him about it. I'll just call back if I miss him.

Wow. I just googled James, and it returned a lot of academic papers. He's actually an assistant professor at DePaul and very widely published on computer and math related topics. He looks to have a Ph.D. I'm pretty impressed. Definitely got me a smart one here.

Doh! I don't know what came over me, but I just sent James a message in response to his last email, which set a time and place:

"Cool.

P.S. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I Googled you, and you seem to be one smart cookie. I find that very sexy. But who wouldn't find aspect-oriented programs sexy?"

Who am I? Fortunately, he responded positively:

"That's great! I should get you to come tell my students this! And I'm so glad the pedophilia conviction is finally coming after my professional page on google."

Must resist temptation to reply with some joke about pedophilia and wanting kids. Must … Be … Strong!

Dec. 1, 2003: Letting me down gently (or not)

2005-05-16T08:33:00.000-05:00

Things look better today. In Yahoo, I've received responses from gm_us2003 (or Greg, who's 34, 6'3", and lives in Palatine) and bullsfan1967. Greg vacations regularly in Florida, reads two or three books a week, and listens to news radio while commuting (close enough to NPR for me). And he lives adjacent to a golf course. So far, so good.

Oops, spoke too soon. The Bulls fan responded but only to shoot me down:

"Hi, Thank you for your email, but I read your profile and don't feel we match up together. Good luck in your search.- Tim"

I'm not sure how I feel about that. I guess it's better than the "our values don't match" option in EH, and most people (including myself) wouldn't have bothered replying at all if they felt this way. So I guess he was being considerate, but it still feels insulting, somehow. Not sure why.

Yahoo held a couple Icebreakers, too, but neither of them moved me to break my rule on guys who can't even write their own introductory message. It didn't help that one of them used the word "conversate" in his profile. And nothing from Greg I or JoePro.

I've seen my first Match action in a while, with three emails waiting for me, including one from a guy I wrote this weekend, talljungguy. His real name is James (it has always bothered me when guys use their full names, rather than the shortened version—strikes me as pretentious—but, hey, I'm all about being more open-minded this round, so …). He teaches at De Paul, lives in Lincoln Square, and said I've been on his "Favorites" list in Match for some time. Apparently, I closely resemble one of his cousins. He has a daughter who lives in another state, as do his parents—very good. He's also a reader and very liberal, so I can overlook the fondness for yoga. Anyway, he already suggested meeting. I wrote back, talking about how much I love his neighborhood and explaining my Midwestern roots, but I didn't mention getting together. I'm not averse to the idea, but let him propose it again so I don't seem quite so easy.

One of the other Match emails came from a 21-year-old, built750. According to his profile, he lives in Chicago but goes to school out East, so he's available there, too (flexibility is so important). I'm not quite at the Mrs. Robinson stage yet, but I suppose I should be flattered. And he did write a good email:

"Hey-I saw your profile and you seem to be a really funloving, confidant woman. Intelligence and sense of humor are key, so I was glad to see that you're big on those, too. I'm sure you kno how annoying it is to be with people who don't 'get it.'

I don't have to go onto looks, because you're obviously beautiful, so we can leave that one as it is :-) Overall, I was very impressed and would love to get to know you better.

I left my contact info above because I wasn't sure if you're a member or not, but either way, you can catch me there (JSlick750@aol.com). All the details are in my profile, and any other questions are more than welcome. Thanks for reading, I hope to hear from you soon,Jason"

Oh, geez—the other Match email is from a guy who lives in Anchorage. Yep—Alaska. He said he couldn't resist writing me because he grew up in Illinois. Sorry, sir, but that's not enough for me, especially since you're 5'5". Does he really think a woman half a foot taller than him would want to take up correspondence with him in Alaska, via a dating site?
***
I figured out what bothered me about the Bulls fan's response. When I tried online dating the first time, I felt obligated to respond to anyone who wrote me, even if I wasn't interested, which may be his approach as well. But I always let the guys down gently (in my mind, anyway). I never said I wasn't attracted to their photos or that they were too short or old or that their profiles were repellant. Basically, I lied—I'd say I was taking a break or had started seeing someone. The way bullsfan put it—that he didn't think we matched up—carries conceivably insulting implications (e.g., "you're not good enough for me").

Whatever. Getting back to real life, I emailed Tim yesterday, apologizing for missing his call, hoping he had a good trip, telling him about the Bears game. He hasn't written back, but maybe I'll call him tonight. I'm more inclined just to see what he does, though, so I might not call. Oh what games I play.

Nov. 30, 2003: Is it okay to be single?

2005-05-13T09:46:00.000-05:00

Darn it! I just came home from a rare Bears' victory. Joel and I used some expensive club level tickets I purchased on eBay and were lucky enough to sit in the sun for the whole game. Had a great time—Joel was able to buy Heinekens from a vendor in the stands, and he also found a stand where he surprised me with an appletini—not your typical stadium drink.

Anyway, I thought I'd jump online and check out all my new emails from potential suitors, but no one has replied. I did receive a Match email from post_impression, a 45-year-old with a shaved head and two kids who live with him. In his primary photo, he's wearing sunglasses inside, at night. So cool. And he doesn't own a TV. You know how I feel about those freaks. I will give him credit for writing a good, if cut-and-pasted, email:

"Hi. I realize that internet dating often ends up being a waste of time, with all those toads, warthogs and whatevers floating around. I can't guarantee that we'd be compatible, but I do promise to be unpretentious, an active listener, and a really fun date. But all that remains to be seen, and the best way to decide is to see for yourself. If you find enough compelling details in my profile to consider meeting for coffee or a drink I invite you to write back. If not, forza! and don't settle for second-best."

It's especially impressive in contrast to the lone email awaiting me in Yahoo: "Hey, I'm a new junkie too. I like your profile, John." A rookie junkie, ay? I'm only interested in veterans. Besides, he's wearing a backpack hooked over both arms in his photo—can you say loser? I'm just kidding. Kind of. Especially since he's wearing a hooded jacket in his other photo. Anyway, I think I might consider post_impression, but shaved heads make me cringe.

In MM, MRGREG491 captioned his email "Let me teach more about jazz"—I say in my profile that I wish I knew more about jazz (or anything really—strangely, I didn't retain much from my History of Jazz course in college). He's 41-45, "quite conservative," and doesn't post a photo, but he describes his looks as very good. He wrote:

"Your ads is like a breath of fresh air on a summer night. Hi my name is Greg. I'M 6'1 tall,200lbs with no fat.I'M romantic,handsome,humorous,intelligent,financially secure professional,mature,caring and a sweet traditional gentlemen with numerous activities. I'M also mentally,emotionally and physically fit,outspoken,open-minded and a good listener. I enjoy the performing art,jazz,movie and a wide range of outdoor activities. I'M definitely interested in speaking with you and learning more about you than what was in your advertisement. So what about we keep in touch so we can get to know each other better."

What about we don't, Mr. Greg?

All in all, a fairly disappointing harvest, considering I've written to 12 guys or so in the last couple of days. Joe from Yahoo, the single parent who doesn't get out much, hasn't written again, nor has Greg. On the other hand, Tim called yesterday afternoon, although I missed his call. Maybe we'll make dinner plans soon.

I read an interesting article in the New York Times today about people rebelling against the "compulsory dating encouraged by the barrage of books, Web sites and matchmaking services." "'There's a fetishization of coupling,' said Bella DePaulo, a visiting professor of psychology at the University of California at Santa Barbara, who studies perceptions of singles. 'It's made the pressure that's always been there more intense.'"

The article mentioned a Web site called www.itsokaytobesingle.com. I clicked over to the site, which urged me to join the "Single Liberation Movement" and buy the book "It's Okay to be Single." I left the site quickly.

The article also quoted a single woman who said, "This Internet stuff makes it seem like there's no excuse for not having someone." I'm not sure I agree with her. Or, at least, I don't blame the Internet; society made it seem like there's no excuse for singlehood long before online dating charged into the scene. Another woman said she thinks the era of the pitied single is on its way out. I don't know about that (if that were so, would I be bothering with this pursuit? I wonder), but she certainly described it well:

" … the onslaught of subtle and not-so-subtle messages that there's something wrong with you if you're not dating, that you must have some sort of fear-of-commitment pathology, or you're overly picky or you've become so accustomed to being by yourself that you'll never be able to accommodate another person."

I definitely people think something is wrong with me because I've had so little dating success, and I'm sure anyone who reads this thinks I'm overly picky (and maybe I am—but should I settle? Why is settling better than being single?). And I certainly worry that, after living by myself for more than 10 years, I couldn't accommodate someone else. I mean, one of the major draws of traveling alone for me is the total freedom from the need to accommodate others. Is it at all realistic to think I'd be able to accommodate someone on a day-in and day-out basis? Probably as realistic as it is to think I could surf.

Anyway, the article reassures me that I haven't imagined this oppressive pro-coupling regime. I'm not the only one who feels ostracized by society for being single and pressured to reform. Not surprisingly, though, the president of Match said, "I don't think their chances are as good if they don't take a proactive approach and try to blend the natural fates that exist out there with a proactivity," See, now, I feel like I agree with him, too, as well as the expert who said:

"It's like trying out a new diet. You hear about a new system or a new approach or a new site, and it seems to offer a lot of what you're after. You go through a period of being very high in the initial experience, then it doesn't quite pan out, there's a low, it leads to discouragement, you think, `Why am I doing this, I can be happy without it.'"

That's for damn sure. It's like she read my mind. Or this journal. But, again, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who rotates through such cycles, although it might be worrisome that she didn't say anything about going back again and again, taking yet another bite at the apple, despite the fact that it hasn't grown any less sour and unappetizing.Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn't have gone online today. I was much happier when my day was all about the Bears’ victory and the good time at Soldier Field. That should really be enough for me. Who needs dating?

Nov. 29, 2003: Back in the saddle

2005-05-12T08:36:00.000-05:00

My revised Match profile is ready to go. I've had some second thoughts, though, because while quickly browsing there yesterday, I found some guys I want to write, and some of them wrote fairly comprehensive profiles. What if my plans backfire, and, in a cruel twist of fate, they're turned off by my sparse profile? I am very hesitant, but I'm going to show some resolve for once and forge ahead with my original plan.

One of the Yahoo guys, joepro, replied. His real name is Joe, too, which is good since I captioned my email to him with "Hey, Joe—What do you know?" Clever, I know. He's 36, 6'1", divorced with kids at home part-time. In fact, his text says "I'm a single parent so I don't get out much." He's goateed and doesn't mention sports as an interest; he does mention religion/spirituality. Hmm …why did I write him again? Oh, yeah, it was because:

"Otherwise, I am a blast to hang out with. I enjoy just about anything cultural or just sitting around drinking and talking with friends. I enjoy intelligent conversation and acting like a goof. I am looking for just about anything, a good phone conversation, a nice dinner, a wild weekend, a long-term relationship. I love to meet new people. I love finding new places to eat, going to the theatre, museums, bike riding or hiking. I am honest ,respectful and very funny."

In his email, he, like so many, seized on my job history—he said quitting a job sounds like something he would do, and, coincidentally, he's a freelancer, too. So I guess I could consider this networking then. He included his real email address—"let's try to get to know each other." I'll write later this afternoon.

No other responses in Yahoo, including from Greg. Again, though, he is visiting family over a holiday weekend. You can't blame a guy for not getting online. Plus, after our last charade, I'm not expecting much on this go-round.

EH found another match—Nestor, 37, from Chicago—and he has already requested communication. Nestor is 5'11", Latino/Hispanic, and works in the construction/electrician category. Being the judgmental snob I am, I immediately wonder about his intelligence level. I disgust myself sometimes. He's made his photos visible at this early stage, which I prefer—shows some confidence. One of the photos was taken on a cruise, but he's too far from the camera to get a good look. Another appears to be from a wedding, and he looks cute. Geez—in reading his profile, under the most important thing he's looking for in a woman, he includes "wants children." And one of his best life-skills is "raising and/or caring for children." He goes on to mention two additional times that he wants children. He also doesn't drink and sprinkles quite a few misspellings throughout his answers, so just as well, but his request for communication almost angers me. I can only assume that he didn't bother reading my profile, and it's not like it takes very long. I mean, if he wants children so desperately, why would he request communication when I'm upfront about my position on motherhood? Argh.

On a better note, another reply came in from one of the Yahoo guys—trezheureux, or Stuart. Unfortunately, he says he's heading out of town for work for three weeks or so and fears he will have limited computer access during that time. He hopes that "we might have the occasion to speak again soon." Not that we've actually spoken, but okay. Maybe I'll drop him a line saying he can send me an email when he returns. Maybe I won't. He's the tea-loving, aikido enthusiast.

An Emode Icebreaker came in last night. Redcskins lives in Richton Park (never heard of it) and wants kids. He writes in his profile that he's a very emotional person and "can have very high highs and low lows." I believe that's called manic depression. No thank you.
***
I wrote to talljungguy (he's 6'7"!) in Match. He obviously spent some time on his profile, particularly his "About Me":

"OUTSIDE: Lucky for me, I inherited some of my parent's charm. Very chatty, sometimes flamboyant. I like to talk seriously and to talk trash at the same time. My friend's parents love me, as do their chidren. At work, I teach graduate students and write research papers, love both. My wise and beautiful nine-year-old daughter lives out of state, so I see her less than I would like. Extrovert, but need plenty of down time. MIND: Lately I've been reading about evolutionary biology and 'men's issues'. There are lots of excellent books on the first subject, and lots of lousy ones on the second. I enjoy the New York Review of Books and the New Yorker, although I end up throwing half of them out -- too much to read! Hate Ashcroft; love the theater. BODY: I love cooking and the comforts of the home -- enjoy experimenting with food. Have discovered, to my chagrin, that disconnected sex does not work for me. Cycle a lot, but don't work out as much as I should -- reasonably fit, but no muscle man me. The pictures posted are not great, but you get the idea. Extremely tall and seeking someone that does not need a ladder to look me in the eyes. SOUL: I've worked through the midlife issues and am comfortable with myself. Deeply moral, in the general sense of the word; definitely immoral in the narrower sense. Intuitive. Happy and well-adjusted, but with plenty of darkness and edge. Need both yin for my yang and yang for my yin."

Nervous about what he might think of my scanty revised profile, I rambled a bit in my email:

"For now, I shall call you Karl (as in Jung). I really like your profile--I appreciate it when a guy puts some thought into the 'About Me.' And I know what you mean about the New Yorker--I just got back from Hawaii and was chagrined to find two copies waiting for me--how to keep up? I do love magazines, though, and find it difficult to watch TV without a mag or newspaper, although the New Yorker requires a little too much focus for TV watching.

But I digress ... Anyhoo, I get the sense from your profile that we've got a quite a bit in common. I think I'm kind of a renaissance woman, and you sound like a renaissance man. I've got plenty of friends for sports (including three friends with whom I've got Cubs partial-season tickets), but would love to find someone to indulge my interests in theater, cooking, and, dare I say, connected sex.

Take a look at my profile and see what you think (and do note my height). Unfortunately, I just finished paring it down--I had a more comprehensive version up, but thought I'd see if a more bare-bones approach would work better (my marketing background rears its ugly head). Please feel free to ask me to fill in any missing info--that can be part of the fun.

Take care,
Barb"

Ugh. Reading it over, I don't really like my message. It sounds incoherent and pretentious at the same time. Well, can't do anything about it now.

I also wrote to a tax lawyer/triathlete in Match:

"Hi there--Just came across your profile and thought I'd touch base.

It seems like we've got some things in common and might hit it off. I'm fairly driven, so much so that I quit my job three years ago because I was miserable and thought I should take action; I've never regretted it. I enjoy both sports and arts, and try to avoid religious and right wing zealots. Oh--and I know more about tax law than I ever expected to because I write client newsletters for CPAs, among other things (I'm actually an attorney, too, but I've never practiced).

Check out my profile and see what you think.
Take care,
Barb"

My caption was "Tax law? We'll be able to talk for hours." Maybe I shouldn't be doing this when I'm so tired.

Random search notes: One guy in Yahoo has no less than four shirtless photos posted, along with one in a tux. The shirtless photos are clearly posed. I've seen this guy's profile repeatedly (in Match, too, I think), so I know two of the shirtless photos are new, and one fully-clothed photo has been deleted. What does this say about Tmisk?

Nov. 28, 2003: The biggest shopping day of the year

2005-05-11T08:51:00.000-05:00

OK, then—time to make a fresh start. I'm goin' a-huntin'. Today I'll check out MM and maybe Yahoo if I have time. I'll make the rounds on Match soon, too, but first I'm going to revise my profile. I've decided to alter one of my profiles to make it much less wordy and revealing and see what happens. So little has been happening for me on Match, and my profile there has staled because I've been a member for so long, so it makes the most sense to play around with variables on that site. I haven't even been looking at my winks on Match, so I should re-engage with the site that started it all for me.

My new headline in Match reads "Looking for a hiking partner and more …" I pared down my interests, deleting references to running, golf, and tennis, instead summing those up with "outdoor activities." That's in addition to "reading, dining out, movies, plays, travel, professional sports, etc." I left the sections about what I last read and my political leanings blank.

My "About Me" now says only:

"I just returned from the beautiful Hawaiian island of Kauai, where the hiking was incredible but maybe not that safe for a solo traveler. I really could have used a hiking partner (not to mention golf, tennis, and, um, ‘other’ activities). Any takers? P.S. My photos show me during and after one of the Kauai hikes."

Kind of racy for me, ay? With that subtle (subtle as a high-powered colonic) reference to, well, sex. As for the photos, I might as well get some more use out of the dress photos I took for Greg's benefit. I probably should not use the photo of me mid-hike (in hat, t-shirt, and shorts), but I'll leave it up for now.

In "About My Match," I deleted references to taking initiative in both his life and our relationship, mutual physical attraction, and news junkies. It now reads:

"I'm looking for someone with a well-worn sense of humor, including an appreciation for sarcasm; non-pretentious intelligence; and honesty. Basically, I’d like to meet someone with a 'business casual' attitude—relaxed, comfortable, and easy-going, but serious and dependable when it matters."

Over on Yahoo, my search criteria produced 231 profiles. My mantra as I review them: Must be more open-minded, must be more open-minded.
***
Well, I browsed through 90 Yahoo profiles and sent emails to about 10 guys. I tried hard to be less picky and think I succeeded. I wrote to guys with kids and goatees, a guy who mentioned green tea and aikido, and a couple suburbanites. It's now getting dangerously close to officially being Friday night, though, and it won't do to be caught searching on a Friday night (even if I don't have any plans).

I wrote to one guy who I'd passed over previously because one of his photos is a black-and-white glamour shot of him posing shirtless and sculpted, with his thumb coyly pulling out the waist of his jeans. His headline says "Very athletic man looking for match!" I assumed he was using "athletic" as code for "buff," but in his profile he writes only that "I think I am somewhat attractive." And his primary photo shows him cuddling a beagle like baby. He also said that he's not in a hurry to jump into a relationship because he just ended a 16-year marriage. On the other hand, he says he's relatively new to the dating scene because he married right out of college. Hmmm … maybe that could work to my advantage. So, anyway, I overcame my initial resistance and wrote him.

I always assume that guys who are such hard bodies are looking for the same, but perhaps I should give them more credit. I mentioned in my email that I'm in the process of getting back in shape after the rib fracture, but I hope I didn't imply a normal level of fitness that I don't actually sustain. Whoa—getting ahead of myself.

I came across several profiles that showed some questionable judgment on the part of the guy. For example, one guy's username is neverhavefun. Doesn't he know girls just wanna have fun? Or does he think he'll generate some sympathy? Then there's the guy who's practically sneering at the camera, giving the hang-ten hand gesture. And the guy who posts several shirtless photos with his belly protruding over his waistband. One guy boasts about being himself, and yet he posts a photo of George Clooney. Finally, another guy's primary photo shows him at a cemetery. If you bother opening his profile, you'll see that he's at his dad's gravesite in Arlington Cemetery, but first impressions count and his is macabre, if not ghoulish.

Over in MM, I found emails from two mustachioed fellas. THEHAWK wrote that he wanted to extend wishes for a very safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving. Um, okay, thanks. He's 41-45, doesn't drink, does smoke, and lives in the south suburbs. SABATAKI264 wrote that these things are hard to start, so he'll just start by asking what I like to read. But he's got multiple tattoos and wants kids. He's also either a firefighter or a cop. While I find that sexy, I've never wanted to pursue anything with someone in such dangerous occupations.

Emode continues to send me emails. The latest shows four guys, including the red-headed Native American. I just can't shake him. One of the guys looks like a Village People intern, with a black leather hat pulled down over a baby face and a bare, hairy chest. Or maybe not—his turnoffs include people in uniform. And manners—how attractive in a man. Turnons? Those include baby talk.

Nov. 27, 2003: Thanksgiving

2005-05-10T12:03:00.000-05:00

Not much going on, predictably. No response from Greg to yesterday's message, and I wouldn't expect one on Thanksgiving. I'm glad he has better things to do (what does it say about me that I checked? Well, I was online anyway, so there). However, in MM, THEHAWK209 apparently doesn't—his message came in this afternoon. I'll check it tomorrow. It's just too sad to work on online dating on a holiday, even if the late news is running a story tonight about how much more acceptable online dating is these days. So glad to have their seal of approval.

I'll probably start my next round of shopping on Saturday. In the meantime, Tim and I made tentative dinner plans for this weekend, but tentative is the word. He was scheduled to return from Las Vegas today, so we'll see when and if he calls.

Nov. 26, 2003: Rambling and rejects

2005-05-09T09:01:00.000-05:00

Back from Kauai. Despite the intermittent rain, the island's beauty was literally breathtaking, to the point of presenting a traffic hazard. I spent a lot of time slaloming along a two-lane highway that hugs the shoreline, and the climbing waves, sparkling beaches, and lush emerald and dusty red cliffs never ceased to grab my attention, startling me even after days of passing along the same routes. The effect is almost hypnotizing, lulling my focus away from the road; fortunately, stray chickens wander all over the island, squawking away and breaking you out of dangerous reveries.

But I'm glad to be home. My first night in Kauai made me long for the crowded streets of Oahu, where I visited two years ago. Plump, middle-aged women wielded colorful umbrellas over their heads, leading hordes of Japanese tourists all over the island, and making it obvious who the outsiders were. In Kauai, with its undeniably romantic atmosphere ostensibly created with couples in mind, I was the obvious, almost unwelcome, outsider. I often felt like a moist, feverish flu patient hovering over newborns in the maternity ward.

I had read in Fodor's that Kauai's hospitality industry ranks among the best, but that must not apply to single visitors. From the minute I checked into the hotel ("You’re alone? You couldn’t find someone from Chicago to come with you?" asked the desk clerk) to breakfast on the last day (where I sat for 10 minutes without a waitress coming anywhere near my table-for-one, finally leaving and resorting to a grocery store doughnut as my final meal in Kauai), I got the impression most of the Kauai hospitality industry thought I should be quarantined.

Between vexing run-ins with disinterested to downright surly wait staff, I enjoyed some tremendous hiking along the stunning Na'apli coast. The soaring cliffs and panoramic ocean views made it difficult to keep a steady pace, and the hikes were challenging, especially with the high winds and steep, slick trails. Even while battling the trails, I couldn't evade intrusive thoughts about how foolish it is for me to tackle these types of hikes by myself. The dangers of my preferred trails prompted me to think that I really need to find a hiking partner (a tennis and golf partner wouldn't hurt, either), so I told myself I'd take on the online dating game with renewed vigor when I return home. (Of course, I took a similar approach to Match after my last trip to Hawaii, and we know how that worked out …)

While on my last hike, a 6.5-mile round-trip trail in Ko'kee State Park, I began to imagine similarities between hiking and online dating. Perhaps it was dehydration talking, but bear with me: Both hiking and online dating often start out easy, making you think it’ll be a breeze. The trail's first leg features even, well-tread terrain, and you feel like you could run this path. Similarly, right after you post a profile, the emails pour in—no problem, you don’t even have to work at it. As you move farther in, you realize it’s not as easy as you initially thought, but you keep going because you’ve heard so much about the beautiful payoff at the end. And yet, how do you know there really is a payoff? Sure, you’ve read about it, but how do you know it’s not just a rumor, passed on from one person to the next? Maybe no one has ever actually seen or experienced it, but people don’t share that because they don’t want to admit they quit before reaching the payoff or got lost along the way or settled for a lesser path.

Parts of the hike and the online search are inevitably uphill or otherwise treacherous. But you can’t stop because if you do you’ll stiffen up and it'll be all the more difficult to get moving again, whether physically or mentally. Besides, you’ve set this challenge for yourself, so you’re going to keep plugging along. You start gaining confidence and thinking of yourself as a Billy goat or an uber-dater—who else could be so sure-footed or juggle so many guys? Then you pass an old or overweight person taking on the same terrain, and it gives you pause for thought. Apparently, anyone can do this—why is it so hard for you?

At times, especially when it’s raining or you don't have any promising prospects, you seriously consider giving up—who would know? But you’ve come this far. You traveled a long way or paid a lot of money. You’ve made an investment, dammit Still, you really think you might just collapse and you wonder who will find you, and in what state of withered decomposition.

A stretch? Probably, but sadly those weren't the only deep thoughts about online dating that plagued me while on vacation. Walking along the southern shore in Poipu, with wild-haired surfers in ragged, knee-length shorts licking whipped cream waves with their boards, I found myself thinking that I could probably surf if I tried. I conveniently ignored the fact that it took me multiple rounds of swimming lessons to advance from the beginning Guppies to the intermediate Minnows. By then, the instructor had been forced to move the water-treading test to a deeper part of the pool for me so I couldn't just stand on my tip-toes and undulate my arms in a simulated tread. Those instructors are smarter than you think.

Anyway, as I sat down on a pilfered chaise lounge among several couples, it struck me that entertaining the notion I could be married someday is probably about as reasonable as thinking I could surf. Nothing in my life thus far gives me any reason to think I could do either. I love the ocean, from a safe distance, but, in truth, it kind of scares me. The same can be said about dating. I like the idea of it, but it's kind of scary up close. How can I think I could ride the long-term relationship waves, when I can barely date? Does this make me an optimistic dreamer or a deluded loon?

On a similar note, I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for the afternoon I returned from Hawaii to get my rib checked out. As long as I’m there, maybe I should go back on the Pill, kind of grease the dating wheels, if you will. Optimist or loon? You make the call.
***
But enough about my pseudo-literate ramblings. Turning back to the dating game, I received a response from Greg while I was in Hawaii, but I didn't reply at the time. He said he was glad to hear from me and recommended some hiking locations in Kauai. I replied yesterday, filling him in on my hiking exploits, including my epiphany about needing a hiking partner. And, um (she said, averting her eyes in shame), I also sent him some photos, including one of me wearing a sundress, post-hike. I really can't deny that I took that photo with the thought of sending it to him. Why else would I take such a picture of myself? I'm justifying this with my "What the hell? Why not?" mantra. The problem that sticks out from my past history of "what the hell" actions, though, is that, while dire consequences rarely result, the best-case scenario never develops either.

Greg wrote back this morning. He thanked me for the photos and said he's glad I'm upbeat about dating (don't know if I'd go that far). He was more restrained than I'd have liked, writing, "I'm also glad that we are still in touch. Maybe someday we can actually meet face to face." I guess I'm still looking for that instant gratification. He could be understandably wary after how things went last time. He invited me to email him over the weekend, while he's in New York visiting his brother, but I don't want to launch another prolonged email exchange with him—I know he's an enthusiastic emailer. I think I'll write and ask how the online dating has been going for him. Basically, I want to know if he's actually gone out and met anyone face-to-face.

EH provided two new matches, one that came in while I was out of town. I wasn't interested because he was 46, and now I see the bastard closed me down "because the difference in our values is too great." Screw you, old man.

The latest EH match is 33 and lives in Wheeling. Nothing in his profile catches my fancy, and Wheeling is far, so I'm not starting anything with him.

Over in Yahoo, six emails came in, plus nine Icebreakers. Ronee_20033 writes in his profile that: "This is only a temporary means of finding 'Mrs. Right.' I'm relocatable and ready to live the American Dream." I'm not sure what that means, but he doesn’t drink and offers no other hooks. Fundoc1 writes: "hi, iam 36 a goodlooking physician from chicago fun sexy. warm and more...lets chat..pat." He's 5'9", with no photo, and his only text reads: "hi,i am 36,a goodlooking physician living in chicago,fun,sexy,single and not poor.looking for a fun warm sexy girl who i can spoil." Nope.

Joshuadjeep, who gives his full name, is one of those guys without a profile. He writes: "I simply wanted to drop you a little not because I was looking throught the personals and wanted to tell you that you are incredibly sexy....0:) That read top is particularly sexy!"

Louis_fun starts off by guessing that his is probably the 300th message I've received. He doesn't have a profile but describes himself as "very attractive, 43, dark hair, dark eyes, very affectionate, 6 foot." Oh, and married. He's "looking for someone to hang out with downtown, checkout some live music, new places to eat and mostly just to have a ton of fun." Uh, call me old-fashioned, but how 'bout trying your wife?

Wrongwayphelps also has no profile. He writes only that we appear to share many common interests (I guess I'm supposed to take his word for that, as he doesn't elaborate) and he'd be happy to send a photo if I'd like to chat. Don't bother.

The final guy lives in Palatine, doesn't drink, and lives with roommates. It looks like I'm back to looking for reasons to rule people out, rather than to take a chance. I will try to get past that, but first I want to go on a major shopping spree this weekend and see what develops. In the meantime, while reviewing these messages that have come in, I guess I'm looking for someone to really grab me as a keeper, as opposed to just a maybe.

My MM mailbox holds three messages. JSH933 has some promise and thinks I "seem like a go-getter with zest" but wants to be married with two kids in two years. Y'know, I try to come back from vacation with new energy for this expedition, and I immediately run face first into the same old wall—kids. Well, he's Republican, anyway, with a photo of him in a convertible BMW, so it's just as well, I guess. On the other hand, he's also 26-30, 6'1"-6'2", and in Evanston. I'll reply, explaining my kid stance and using my saucy "who knows what might have been" line.
MRDREW replied to an email I sent him quite a while ago. He explained that he moved to Florida. He said he doesn't really like it there and will probably move back, but I'm not holding my breath. Or starting anything.

ABKEVIN498's profile includes the troubling admission that:

"I am also an adult baby,which means i like to be babied sometimes .Yes just like a baby .diapers and all. Its very sensual though and can be fun and bonding."

Didn't he see I don't want kids? That includes adults in diapers. Also, he lives in New Lenox, is 41-45, and 5'5"-5'6", and has kids living with him. I can only hope they don't have to change his diapers or nurse him.

I received an Emode repeat, from KenKuf, the red-haired guy from Darien who's Native American. And speaks German. Interesting mix, but he doesn't do anything for me. Ah, yes—and he hangs at singles dances. And has "adult tapes" in his bedroom. I wonder if those are on the same shelf as the photos of his nieces and nephews. Nice.

Finally (because I've got nothing at all from Match), I received a message today from Emoder windsurfer224, who compares himself to explorer Merriweather Lewis:

"I recently did a similar career transition. I think of it as though I was Merriweather Lewis, working for Thomas Jefferson in Washingtion, D.C. Then one day, I began planning to take a 21st century version of the Lewis and Clark expedition. I've hit a few rapids along the way, but it has been exciting and never boring."

Apparently, he quit his old job also and now teaches 7th graders. Good, but he's 45 and 5'4".

So, overall, I'm not encouraged, but I'll go at the shopping full throttle on Friday. The day after Thanksgiving is always the biggest shopping day of the year, right? Here's hoping I find some good merchandise.

Nov. 17, 2003: Excuses, excuses

2005-05-06T08:47:00.000-05:00

So, I did it. I emailed Matt this morning, asking him my questions about standing someone up:

“Subject: Wow

Can't say I've been stood up before. Didn't see that coming at all. What a weird experience. But, since I'm working on a book about online dating, at least it's provided me with some material.

Along those lines, I'm hoping you won't mind answering some questions about standing someone up. I want to include something about the ‘phenomenon’ in my book (without names, of course). I know how it feels to be the one stood up, but I want to provide both sides.

I'm wondering what prompts a person to stand someone up. What kind of thought processes, if any, do you go through, both before and after? Do you feel any remorse or guilt? At what point do you decide to do it? Is it a snap decision or the result of a protracted internal debate? Why wouldn't you call or at least email with some excuse to cancel? Is it something you've done before, or been subjected to yourself?

Don't worry about hurting my feelings--this is all for the sake of research.

Thanks.
Barb”

Matt replied:

“Barb,

It wasn't an intentional slight in the least. I can blame it entirely on a computer not functioning two hours before I was to call you and not having access to your phone number. It is honestly as simple as that. My fault for not having called yesterday when my computer was back up.

Again, it was no other reason than that. I did want to see you and you can believe that or not. But do not think it was because of any other reason.

Matt”

My (extremely) restrained response:

“Who knew you were so lacking in basic problem solving skills? You've got a lot to learn, my friend:

1) ever heard of 411 or the phone book? amazing services! you should try them some time.
2) ever heard of common courtesy, as in calling, or at the very least emailing, to explain and apologize?

Very lame, Matt, very lame. But, in the long run, just as well.”

I think my response about sums up my reaction. If this guy is so inept he couldn't figure out how to find my phone number and so clueless or lacking in common courtesy that it didn't occur to him to call and apologize, or even email, we were doomed anyway. May as well cut our losses. It cracks me up, though, how he almost takes on an indignant tone ("you can believe that or not"), as if he's the one who was wronged. Remember when I thought he was considerate because he claimed that he's not the type of guy to leave someone waiting for him at a bar? Guess he has his limits. Waiting in a bar—heaven forbid. Waiting in the comfort of your home—well, maybe.

Ah, Matt just responded to my verbal spanking:

“Barb,
Point made. Best of luck to you.
Matt”

Another drawback to online dating: different levels of commitment. To me, Matt's actions and words make it clear he can take the online dating or leave it—he's not particularly serious about finding a "match." Get together, don't get together, show up for a date, don’t show up for a date—no big deal either way. It’s all casual, dude.

Moving on, Emode sent me seven guys "who want to meet " me. Four are aged 46-51. In Yahoo, saudadebras4225 writes that he's moving to Europe soon but thought he'd give "this" one last try. Why the hell would I want to start something up with someone moving to Europe? I'm practically physically holding myself back from firing off a reply to that effect. And Greg hasn't responded—geez, it hurts if I can't even stir up some interest from him. Have I mentioned I really need a break from this ordeal? Yes—ordeal. That's what this is. The valleys far outnumber the peaks in this game.

Nov. 16, 2003: Bouncing back

2005-05-05T08:42:00.000-05:00

I woke up unexpectedly sad on this gray, damp Sunday. I feel like I could easily cry, and I wear that tight, hungover feeling across my sinuses, but that's probably just allergies. Lying in bed this morning, I was entrenched in why-do-I-put-myself-through-this mode. I found myself thinking about how my cabinets and fridge are stocked with the makings for cookies or brownies, if I’m so inclined, which I often am while wallowing in self-pity. Oh, yeah—I could definitely lapse into some feeling-sorry-for-myself binging.

On a different note, I read recently about a survey (conducted by Match, so you know it's scientifically sound) that reported 13 percent of the respondent-singles stay in a doomed relationship to avoid being single over the holidays and three percent do so to receive gifts. I wonder what the numbers would say about how many people not already in relationships avoid them over the holidays so they don't have to give gifts or because their social calendars already are crammed. For those reasons, I'm not expecting a lot of online action over the holidays, but maybe I'm wrong and people, struck by how bored and alone they are, will turn to the services in snowballing numbers. Just the kind of catch I’m looking for—alone and despondent. I laughed out loud today at a spam email offering a holiday sale on Valium and Vicodin, but the holidays do represent nothing but stress and pain for some people.

Me, I'm in the midst of making plans with Joel for the Bears game on Nov. 30, a live NPR holiday show on Dec. 15, and a David Sedaris play at some point in December. I wish I had a date for these things but am glad to have Joel. As I’ve said, I don’t allow my single-hood to hold me back from things I want to do (I’ve said this by now, right? Or at least implied it?). I worry, though, about using Joel, even though I know I’d never consciously be so cavalier with his feelings and these are events we both enjoy and we'll have a lot of fun. And yet, I know I'd rather go with a boyfriend. I don't like what that says about me, but it isn't a reflection on Joel or how much I value his friendship at all.

Back to last night, briefly. I remain somewhat mired in disbelief, I think because I can't imagine doing that to someone. Yes, I blew off that Rob guy, but 1) that was only for a phone call—we hadn't ever met or talked, and 2) I at least emailed him an excuse. I didn't just completely leave him hanging. I'd barely even emailed with him, let alone met him, and I treated him better than Matt treated me, just because I think humans owe each other common courtesy, especially in a situation like online dating, so rife with vulnerabilities. I empathize with people who expose themselves like this, and try to act as I'd want others to act toward me. Guess that makes me a dupe. I didn't feel like I owed Rob anything other than the common decency human beings owe each other, but that alone was enough so that I didn't want to be hurtful. He didn't deserve that. Did I deserve this? I think not.

Nov. 15, 2003: I think I'm being stood up

2005-05-04T08:04:00.000-05:00

No word from Ed, so that pursuit is officially over. Ironically, his profile was included in a “live ones” email MM sent me this morning, with profiles that fit my criteria. They don't know he's dead to me.

I received an email in MM from FJD128, without a photo. He stands only 5'9”, and although he says he has a master's degree, he performs secretarial work. I'm such a snob (um, has that come up before?). If he was 6'2”, I'd probably cut him more slack—e.g., maybe he's still in school, or hasn't been able to find his way into his field yet. And that's what his profile says—he's looking for work in urban planning. Whatever—I'm not in the mood for shorties.

Emode Icebreaker this morning from mrliteman223. I glanced at his profile—a kid at home (his headline is "Cool Dad!"), lives in Indiana. Oh, and he's married. That is the coolest, Pops! In the section where a guy can explain "how he's different," he wrote: "HUSBAND & FATHER OF 4 GREAT KIDS. JUST WORKING HARD AND HAVING FUN. I'M TRYING NOT TO LET IT ALL JUST PASS BY. SOAKING LIFE UP AS MUCH AS I CAN." According to his profile, one of the three things he can't live without is his family. And, in his bedroom, you'll find a king-size bed. I wonder if his wife will be lying in it. Unbelievable. Or rather, believable but sickening.

Over in Yahoo, two new Icebreakers. The first guy lives in Gurnee with his kids. The second guy is 42, with no photo, and doesn't own a TV. I know, I know, I should be more open-minded. Maybe after my trip. Besides, people who don’t own TVs tend to be so smug about it.

I did quickly scan Yahoo's matches under my criteria, even though I’m putting proactive hunting on hold. They found 183, and some looked promising. One of the matches was Rob, the guy from eHarmony who I so heartlessly scorned. To be honest, I was looking for Greg because his photo keeps coming up on my home search page. I thought I'd drop him a line, see how things are going and if he's getting more of a grip on his new life (put much more nicely, of course). But seeing all the new prospects made me realize I'm not desperate enough for that. Yet.

I did receive an email in Yahoo, too, from goodfordates. He's 42, with middle-parted red hair (which contrasts poorly with the yellow and orange t-shirts he's brandishing in a visual assault in his photos), and lives in Oak Park. "I wanna be your boyfriend, possibly" reads his headline. I think this guy wrote me before; his line that "Overweight is a turnoff but I'm not looking for someone anorexic either" rings a bell, as does his bespectacled-walrus look.

So, tonight is my first real date with Matt. He's coming over for some wine and then we'll venture out for dinner somewhere in my neighborhood. I'm curious which restaurant he'll choose, among other things. I'm growing a wee bit annoyed that he hasn't called yet to let me know what time to expect him. It's 2:30pm already. I'm going to work out now, and I hope he calls before I’m done.

Oh, my. I'm closing out my open screens, and when I got to the Yahoo screen, there was Greg's face, peering out at me. Can't hurt to drop a line. Shows what a big person I am. Or what a desperado.
***
OK--it's almost 5pm and still no word from Matt. Now, Andy wasn't entirely offbase back in August when he said I don't like surprises. I like to look forward to things, so, for instance, if I'm meeting friends for dinner, I like to know in advance where we're going or at least the type of food. I know how that sounds, but it's not a control thing. I generally don't really care where we end up; I just like to know so I can look forward to it. I like knowing I’ll enjoy chicken enchiladas or a burrito for dinner—so kill me.

Anyway, I like to have an idea what to expect, within reason, and I think that the time a date is to begin is within reason. Should I be thinking I'm being stood up? Matt just didn't seem like that kind of guy, but what do I know? I spent a whopping two hours with him. I do expect to hear from him eventually, but how to react? It's probably too early to let him know I think it's inconsiderate to leave me dangling for so long--I don't want to come off as uptight and we really don't owe each other anything at this point. I want to convey (falsely, perhaps) that I go with the flow, and yet I find this rude. Knowing me, I'll take the passive-aggressive approach, and just crack some jokes about it throughout the evening (if there is an evening; if there isn't, pizza is starting to sound awfully good).

When (if?) he finally calls, three scenarios are likely: 1) I'll say something about how I was beginning to think I was being stood up, 2) I'll totally lie, and say "no problem," or 3) I'll lie by omission and not bring it up if he doesn't. Ugh.

5:30pm. I sent Matt an email a few hours ago, asking when to expect him and giving directions to my place. No reply or phone call yet, but I did receive an email from my friend Joel, who invited me to join him and couple others for dinner in Old Town (with an actual time), then drinks with some more friends. I turned him down (they're going for sushi, so I'd have passed on dinner regardless), but I think I would have been justified in going ahead and making alternative plans for tonight. But I didn't because I think that would be catty: "Well, you hadn't called yet, Matt, so I went ahead and made other plans." Meow. And probably the end of communication.

5:30 and not a word? C'mon! I don't think I'm being too shrewish to think that's a bit unacceptable, in the absence of a legitimate excuse, which I concede may exist. Even if we go out now, this puts a real damper on things for me. And I'd been looking forward to tonight, too. Shaved and lotioned and even painted my toe nails. OK, that was actually for Hawaii, but he wouldn't have known that. Although I'd probably have told him.

Did we agree on a time and I forgot? Is he just going to show up? Should I get dressed and put on makeup?

6pm. Now it has reached the point that I don't even want to go out, with Matt or my friends. That's a real problem for me in the fall and winter. I hate getting ready to go out when it's dark and cold, and then sitting around waiting for whomever to pick me up or the departure time to arrive. I'm definitely a nester during these seasons. Once 6pm or so hits, planting myself on the couch in front of the TV with some reading materials sounds so much more appealing than bundling up and barreling out into the cold. And I do have five hours worth of shows that I taped over the past week, cued up and ready to go.

I'm tempted to order a pizza, so if Matt calls I can say, "Well, I just ordered a pizza, so ..." This is truly unbelievable. I just don't know what to make of it because I've never experienced this before. I should feel anger, but I'm more annoyed. Some relief is creeping in, because staying in sounds good (even though I stayed in last night--when did I get so old and reclusive?), but some disappointment also hovers at the edges of my psyche, ready to launch an attack, because I had a good feeling about tonight.

Once again, I find myself in the position of being irritated that I wasted any emotional energy on this. At least I didn't vacuum or clean the bathroom. And to think I was willing to sacrifice my most expensive bottle of wine tonight. Sure, it only cost $12.99 (on sale, though), but it's the principle of the thing. Oh, the irony—I didn't make alternative plans because I didn't want to be a bitch, and then he turns out to be an asshole. Who'd have thunk?

Seriously, though, I was fairly excited about tonight. I didn’t think Matt was "the one" or anything, but I thought we'd have fun and something physical might even transpire. Now I'm back to square one. Another one-and-out. I don't know if this counts as progress—the guy did communicate with me after the audition—since I haven't actually seen him again. Overall, this isn't very encouraging, but, hey, I'm going to Hawaii in three days, so screw him. Or not.

I've never been stood up before, let alone by someone who incessantly emailed me for days before the faux date. God knows I’m not someone with a problem spending a weekend night at home, but if I'd known I would be home tonight, I could have rented a movie or some of the latest Sopranos DVDs. The movie "M*A*S*H" is on at 9pm, and I taped "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" off of PBS a couple weeks ago, so maybe those will stand in as my date tonight.

It's strange. I'm not really upset; I'm more baffled than anything. Honestly, the thought that keeps running through my head is "Really, really weird." Surprisingly, the thought "Pizza, pizza, pizza" hasn’t joined my mental hit parade, even though I feel justified in ordering one. Surely society wouldn't judge me for devouring most of a pizza by myself in such a situation. It's that or open a bottle of wine, and the pizza would certainly be more socially acceptable.

The rudeness of people just boggles my mind, though, and all kinds of questions nag at me. Was Matt planning on this all along, just having some kind of warped fun? Did he get a better offer, or, as the day went by, did it dawn on him that I'm just not his type or worth the effort in the long run? I don't know which would be worse.

Sadly, I'm taking some pride in the fact that I didn't turn to booze or pizza, instead ordering a relatively healthy meal of chicken and steak kabobs from a nearby restaurant (at least I'll have the neighborhood meal I expected). And, in a fit of self-control, I only ate a couple pieces of the cheese I bought this morning to accompany our pre-dinner wine, not the whole brick. Of course, to quote another wronged heroine, tomorrow is another day. Scarlett can rebuild her plantation; I'll rebuild my calorie intake.

7pm. The buzzer rang, and my stomach lurched. Waves of nausea lapped at my throat—it seemed a little soon for the food to arrive. I walked to the door thinking, "Please don't be him, please don't be him." It wasn't.
***
I'm entering a state of quasi-shock now because I didn't see this coming at all. I'm sure as the evening goes on, I'll grow more upset, but I feel like I've been more upset about mere failed auditions (without the added dramatic twist of being stood up). I think I find the auditions more upsetting because that's so about me— i.e., why don't these guys want to see me again? What's wrong with me? With this, I'm wondering what's wrong with him. Not what's wrong with him like "What's wrong with him that he wouldn't want some of this?" but like "What's wrong with him that he could be so unfathomably rude, if not downright mean?"

I really worry about being such a poor judge of character. Several years ago, a work incident, of all things, completely shattered my confidence in my ability to judge a person's character. I came to believe that you can never really know another person or what he or she is capable of, and you shouldn't let yourself think you do. It took quite a while for me to regain any shards of confidence in my judgment about people. This experience only sets me back, which makes dating, particularly online dating, all the more daunting. I think that, to the extent I feel sad right now, it's more for the loss of that sense of confidence again than anything having to do with Matt per se.

On a more narrow scope, my dating self-esteem isn't faring well from this experiment. My vacation comes at a perfect time because I definitely need a break from the repeated beatings inflicted on my self-esteem over the past months. In fact, I'd probably quit this effort altogether if not for my commitment to the long-term project (the book, that is, not finding a match—I prefer to deal in realities).
***
Lying in bed unable to fall asleep, I realize that, in the back of my mind, I'm thinking there's a good reason Matt didn't show or call. I mean, I know from first-hand experience that people do get hit by trucks. So I'm torn—I find myself hoping he's all right, that nothing happened to him; but if nothing happened, he's just an asshole, upon whom I should wish bad things. Well, maybe not getting hit by a truck. Why not, though, if he'll recover eventually? The more I think about it, getting hit by a truck is just the kind of thing that should happen to assholes like him. A sudden trauma and then 11 or 12 weeks of pain, inconvenience, restricted activities, and missing out on fun. And sex.

I want to send him an email. Something along the lines of: "Nice. Can't say I've ever been stood up before." Maybe allude to the book project, and ask him some of the questions running through my head about what goes through the mind of someone who does this. What prompts a person to stand someone up? What kind of thought processes, if any, do you go through, both before and after? Do you feel any remorse or guilt? At what point do you decide to do it? Is it a snap decision or the result of a protracted internal debate? Why wouldn't you call or at least email to cancel? Is it something you've done before, or been subjected to yourself?

I'm a little concerned about my reaction so far, or relative lack of reaction. Is this the kind of treatment that I've come to expect from dating? Do I have so little hope for the whole process? Is this what I've resigned myself to? That this is it, it doesn't get any better? Do I think I don't deserve any better?

God, my thoughts and emotions are all over the place, like kernels of popcorn heating up in the same pool of oil but blasting off on different trajectories. Maybe I'll finally fall asleep when the oil, like me, is exhausted.

Nov. 14, 2003: The politics of the profile

2005-05-03T08:26:00.000-05:00

Matt sent an email early this morning, asking if I had fun last night. My friend Roberta and I went to a wine tasting at Binny's, one of the perks of our membership in the Frugal Wine Lovers Club. A brochure for one of the wines described it as "A very fleshy body, but a tight body." Wouldn't that make a great headline for a profile? I think that sums up what a lot of guys look for in a woman.

Roberta again urged me to fool around with some of the things in my profile to see how my results change. I'm still reluctant to do that, but I'm thinking about making my income visible when I resume the hunt after my trip. Tim mentioned the other night that he experienced a definite surge after he posted his income ($100,000-150,000), even without a photo. I guess that doesn't really surprise me, but it does disgust me. It's basically saying, "I wouldn't consider you if it wasn't for your money." That's just reality, though. Roberta thinks my income level ($50,000-75,000 this year) would deter men, that they'd be threatened. I think she overestimated my income, though, and that guys would be reassured to see that I can support myself, especially being a freelancer.

Tim also mentioned that you can often tell from women's profiles the types of relationship problems they've encountered in the past. For example, when a woman writes a lot about honesty, they've probably been cheated on and/or lied to by past boyfriends. The same can be said for guys, such as the ones who write things along the lines of "High maintenance women need not apply." When Tim made that observation, I thought, "Yep. I edited my profile after Andy according to qualities I thought he was lacking." Interesting.

Emode Icebreaker from stevenp823. I'm exactly what he's looking for. Yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it before. He, unfortunately, isn't what I'm looking for at all. He's 49 and smokes, and why go on?

Stalking over in MM, I see that Ed read my email trying to schedule something with him last night at 10:48pm. He hasn't replied, and I'm finding him annoying. If he doesn't reply today, forget it. I'm done with him.

Roger from EH hasn't taken us to the final level, so I'm assuming he's over "us." Alas, our relationship was short but sweet. Sure, we never communicated directly, but let's not be picky. Seriously, my must-haves/can't-stands presumably turned him off, and I wonder which ones in particular shut things down.
***
I sent Tim an email this morning, just the usual "it was good to talk to you," with well wishes for his two upcoming trips (Ann Arbor this weekend—“It’s a Big 10 town,” he said by way of explanation—then Vegas) and confirming my interest in dinner when he returns. He's replied, so we're tentatively scheduled for Thanksgiving weekend. We shall see.

Emode sent another batch of "highly compatible men." I've been so unimpressed with the pickings on Emode, plus I'm not even subscribed, that I don't even bother looking at the profiles now unless the photo catches my eye. Emode's measure of compatibility is so wonting—it seems like the less you put in your profile, the more compatible you are with others. For example, Emode asserts that one of these guys is 100 percent compatible with me, but he's answered almost every question with "I'll get back to you on that." I suppose they base the ratings on the personality questionnaires, but please! All five of these guys have posted meager profiles, and only one bothered with a photo. What a waste of time. Hah! And I just read that Emode has changed its name to Tickle. That makes it even less appealing to me. "So how'd you guys meet?" "On Tickle!"

Both Matt and Tim made me laugh in their emails today. Matt had asked for my phone number; I sent it over and mentioned that I was just about to work out, so I wouldn't be answering the phone for a while. His reply: "what, you think i don't have anything better to do than call you?? during the day of all things?? absurd." And Tim advised me to avoid picking up stray tikis in Hawaii, a classic Brady Bunch reference. I'm such a sucker for those.

Interesting tidbit from a USA Today article I just read: “When Dress for Success arrived in 1975, naysayers accused John Molloy of squeezing ‘the romance out of clothing,’ Molloy says. The reaction to his latest book, Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others: The Fascinating Research That Can Land You the Husband of Your Dreams, ‘has been identical.’ Molloy says that heeding his do's and don'ts increases your chances of marrying by 60%. One of his ‘statistical realities’: ‘Men make up their minds about a girl in three minutes.’” Yep—I thought so.

Nov. 13, 2003: Talking to Tim

2005-05-02T08:38:00.000-05:00

Another slow day, as I wind things down in anticipation of my impending absence. No word from Matt today—I've been out most of the day—so I might drop him a quickie, so to speak, to ferret out his thoughts for Saturday. No reply from Ed, who hasn't yet read my last email, asking about his availability before Tuesday, when I leave. My interest in him is fading, probably because he obviously couldn't care less. Could you be more blasé? That's probably not fair—I understand many people have jobs that prevent them from constantly checking their regular email mailboxes, let alone those on dating sites. He's a teacher, though—surely he has plenty of downtime.

Matt replied that he's thinking dinner and drinks, and "chat and see where the night takes us." How full of possibility! And he declared that he will pick the place. A little rude, possibly, but I like the take-charge-ness of it—makes it more like an actual date. I did throw out the possibility of sampling some wine at my place first if he picks a restaurant in my neighborhood, but said anywhere "is cool." Oh, yeah—I'm hip, I'm down, I'm Miss Easy-Going. He's replied and seems psyched about the wine idea. Let's hope he doesn't have plans to loot and plunder—it really is somewhat early to invite him into my place, but I've googled him and he appears to be what and who he says. He left some comments on a bulletin board about "Phantom of the Opera," and, really, how threatening can a Michael Crawford fan be? Oh—just had a great idea—the soundtrack from Phantom playing when he arrives. Dare I think I might see some action this weekend? It's been three months, for God's sake. And even that was restricted by my rib injury.

I talked to Tim last night for more than an hour. We laughed a fair amount, with a few awkward pauses sandwiched in. We spoke about MU quite a bit, not surprisingly. He's close to his family, but not too close to travel over Thanksgiving. He's going to Vegas, which I find appealing being a non-Thanksgiving person myself. And he's comfortable traveling by himself, much like me. It's funny how qualities that I possess raise flags for me when they're in other people. "He travels alone? How weird. Can't he find friends to travel with?" But when I think about traveling alone for myself, I think: "I can't wait around for my married friends to be able and willing to take a trip with me. And not having to accommodate other people truly makes it a vacation. I do what I want, when I want, how I want."

He seemed like he might be a bit negative, but he doesn't want kids. He said he realized that over the past few years. "I can think of 15 minutes in my life that I really thought I wanted them," he said. "Let me guess," I replied. "Were you in a maternity ward?" Indeed he was. He's been on Match for about a year and a half, and dated someone from it for a while. He's also dated someone who lived in my neighborhood, so he must be willing to drive into the city for a gal, also important.

On the troubling side, the people he mentioned from Marquette whose names I recognized were generally people I didn't like. But that was a long time ago, and, as I said earlier, people change. He's also a fan of the circus, including, I fear, Cirque du Soleil. Doesn't care for clowns, but I didn't detect the expected fear that so many people I hold near and dear share with me. Creepy—just the thought of those freaks makes me shiver in front of my computer. One other thing—he mentioned how he once went on a date with a vegan, and had figured he'd order ribs if he didn't like her. I think he was kidding; if not, hello, passive aggressive! But the part that concerned me was that this date took place at TGIF's, and he made no excuses for that. I'm hardly a snob, but I don't do family-style restaurants on early dates, even restaurants with Mudslides and flair.

Was it a bad sign that at one point, while he was talking, I pulled out my journal from my summer in Italy in 1992? I hadn't looked at it in years (it's way too long and detailed), but I wanted to confirm some of the places I'd visited after he brought up Italy. So I guess I wasn't listening with rapt attention the whole time.

The last thing we discussed, before he suggested dinner sometime, was a story about someone from Marquette who shot his head off while on the phone with his girlfriend. Apparently, his father, who worked as a county pathologist, killed his mother and was able to cover it up for a while. After concluding that light-hearted tale, Tim said how good it was to talk to me. I replied, "Yeah, you, too, even though we're ending on this really gruesome story."

It was nice that I felt comfortable telling him my plans for Thanksgiving Day—pizza and classic movies. Most people would find that strange. I'll probably drop him an email tomorrow, saying it was good to talk to him and casually referencing getting together when we're both back in town.

Nov. 12, 2003: Going over like a Ed balloon

2005-04-29T08:45:00.000-05:00

Not a lot going on today. I've been out and about most of the day, but Matt and I managed to exchange a couple emails, initiated by him this morning. Looks like we're on for Saturday night. I have no idea what to expect—drinks or dinner or what? Should I shave? It'd be so great to have a really good date (as assessed after the fact from both of our perspectives) before I go on vacation, leaving me with something to look forward to on my return. On the other hand, that would give me a full week with a lot of time on my hands to start getting way too far ahead of myself mentally, as I so often do.

Ed finally replied. I guess I shouldn't say "finally"—it's not like he opened my proposal and sat on it for a while. He wrote back this morning:

"OK … I'll meet for a drink. Hawaii sounds nice … I've never been … I'm afraid if I went I'd never come back."

Not exactly brimming with enthusiasm. You'd think he'd be flattered and at least say thanks. Do I smell some arrogance? Hmmm—probably too little to draw such conclusions from, but still. Well, I'll see what his schedule is like. I'd like to meet him before I leave, but I don't want to seem overly eager. His line about not coming back, though, gives me some basis for proposing we get that drink before I head to Hawaii, just in case. His lack of enthusiasm doesn't bode well—it'll surely be a one-and-out.

EH has been awfully quiet. Just as well, maybe. I read an article yesterday that referred to EH as a Christian-based dating service. It caught my attention because I hadn't gotten that impression at all. Minutes later, I came across yet another article on online dating that reported the "co-founder of EH is a psychologist and author whose books and services are heavily promoted by religious right groups like Focus on the Family." Yikes. I think they'd frown on my no-kids stance.

Tim is supposed to call tonight. I don't really care whether I talk to him or not, but it'll be interesting to see if he follows through or if he's rude.

Nov. 11, 2003: Virtually flirting

2005-04-28T09:05:00.000-05:00

Feeling kind of in limbo this morning. Tim replied to my email of yesterday, describing his weekend and apologizing for not calling. He said (in an email he sent around 7:30pm, mind you) that he'd try to call last night, but he never called. I went out to dinner with friends but hoped to find at least one call on my Caller ID when I returned home, either from him or from Matt calling to firm up our plans to meet for a drink this week. Nada. Before I saw Tim's email, my first thought was that he probably talked to someone who knew me at MU and didn't have good things to say. Now that I see his email, I don't know what to think. He first contacted me more than a week ago and was pretty enthusiastic, but his enthusiasm appears to have waned.

In MM, Ed hasn't replied to my last-ditch effort, but he hasn't read it either. Thank you, MM Big Brother feature. In EH, Robert closed me out, presumably after finally grasping I was serious about not wanting kids. Roger has left me hanging. I wish he'd either move us to the next stage or just close it down.

I just heard from Matt, and his only open night this week is tonight and even then, he'll be in a meeting until 7:30. Getting past the Rules violation, which I don't actually care about, I'm not feeling that great, and I generally prefer earlier outings to later (how old am I that I consider 8:pm later?). On the other hand, I'd really like to get a second meeting out of the way before I leave town. I don't want to give him time to lose interest, and, if it turns out I'm not interested upon another meeting, I don't want to waste any time wondering about what might happen next while I'm on vacation.

I also just heard from Tim, asking if I'm around tomorrow night, for a phone call, I guess. He has a business dinner tonight and claims to have all-day meetings at work all week. So, if I go out with Matt tonight, I can get that out of the way, and allegedly talk to Tim tomorrow night. I guess I'll give Matt the thumbs-up for tonight.

A new email arrived in MM, from BMALE417. He's only looking to make friends, according to his profile, which also says: "A person who is single and/or involved who would like to establish a friendship. Anything beyond that would be spontaneous and unplanned." It gets weirder, though—in the email, he addresses me as if I'm a couple ("You guys sound great!") and says he is looking for a couple to hang out with him and his lady, who are a professional couple interested in adventure and spontaneity. I think we have some crossed wires (and not in the kinky way he's after).

Another email from VERYSECURE991, again asking "can we meet for dinner or drink sometime?" This is the third time I've heard from this guy, with the exact same message each time—time to block him.
***
Matt and I aren't meeting up tonight after all. He said he was afraid his meeting would run late and he's not the kind of guy to leave someone waiting in a bar for him. Honestly, I'm relieved that I don't have to go out tonight. I've gone out the past five days and long for a night off. I also don't feel at all like drinking. It struck me at first as considerate that he was worried about his meeting running over, but it wasn't long before I started thinking maybe I'm just being naïve and he's really not interested. I looked at some of his emails, though, and he specifically mentioned that he really wanted to see me again before my trip ("I do very much want to see you before you head off to Hawaii"). In a hasty decision, I emailed him that I'm eager to see him before I leave, too, so maybe a drink or a bite to eat this weekend. He seems up for that, and pointed out that it's a good sign we're both so eager to get together again ("almost a kind of spark feeling to it"). So that's where we are, and we've been emailing the rest of the afternoon.

The emails have strayed a little toward the flirty side:

Me: Have I mentioned that I like to make dinner for third dates?
Matt: Can we just call this next encounter our third date?
Me: No home cookin' for you yet. That must be earned.
Matt: So I have to earn it, eh? Well, I have my ways. Sorry, I am frisky today.
Me: Don't use up all that friskiness at work …
Matt: My friskiness rarely gets used up. Keep that in mind for future reference.
Matt: So, whacha wearing?
Me: [lapsing back into the real, overly cautious me] I work at home ... I don't dress for work. Well, not alluringly, anyway, unless you like women in running clothes and old cardigans. Sexy, ay?
Matt: Hey, trust me, running clothes and an old cardigan can be very sexy. I love women when they are dressed down. Especially ones with great bodies such as yourself.

Now, see, that's the kind of comment that makes me recoil (and not just figuratively), not out of disgust but from discomfort. I'm not offended—it's a compliment and I don't think it's particularly lecherous or anything. Thirty-six years old and I still don't know how to accept or respond to a compliment, especially regarding my looks. If I just say thank you, for example, isn't that the same thing as saying, "Why, yes, I agree. I do have a great body"? My first instinct is always to make some kind of sarcastic and/or self-deprecating remark to change the subject (“Well, clothes hide a lot. That’s why they say clothes make the man.”) or, worse, to dispute the flattery (“Yeah, right”), which is poor form, rude, and likely a turnoff to the flatterer. With email, I have the luxury of thinking about my response, but my thoughts still immediately lead me to want to crack a joke. So, I ducked the compliment:

Me: Well, that's good to know. Are you one of those guys looking for a woman who's as comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt (you can substitute "baseball hat" for t-shirt here) as in a black cocktail dress?

I explained that my username is essentially an inside joke with myself about those guys. Taking him into my confidence should count for something, right?

Matt: Very nice inside joke ... I LOVE a woman in jeans with a hat on. One of the sexiest things is a woman wearing a ballcap with her hair pulled through the back. Wow. I love that.

I wonder if he loves it when the hat is merely camouflage for unwashed hair. Somehow, I clung to the ledge and resisted asking him that. Instead, I brought the exchange to an end for the day.

The difficulty I’ve had scheduling a drink with Matt and just a phone call with Tim reinforces my sense that I shouldn't bother shopping with my trip so near and Thanksgiving close on the heels of my return. Even though I'm taking my laptop, how pitiful would it look to be checking in with online dating while in Hawaii? No, better to wait and embark on a fresh start when I return.

Nov. 10, 2003: Separating the wheat from the chaff

2005-04-27T08:24:00.000-05:00

I was mildly disappointed that I didn't get any phone calls last night from potential suitors, particularly Matt or Tim. Not that I actually wanted to talk on the phone with either of them, but I'd have liked the little boost of knowing they're at least somewhat interested. I sent Matt a brief email Saturday morning (responding to one he'd sent Friday afternoon), and he replied today, asking me to write back if I have time.

Over in EH, I haven't heard from Roger since I sent my must-haves and can't-stands. It was so hot-and-heavy there for a while, with our quick-fire responses, but now nothing. He hasn't shut me down, though. How sad that I'm clinging to that. Why do I feel disappointed over someone with whom I haven't even directly communicated? Robert and I also have plateaued at stage 3. He'll probably close me out soon, but that's fine.

Icebreaker in Yahoo. He lives in Glidden (where?), and he's a NASCAR fan. He hunts and restores old tractors for fun. I guess that gives me an idea of where Glidden is—I imagine it'd be hard to work on tractors in the city or even most suburbs. His match? Well, "she must take pride in her sexuality, feel comfortable in a pair of jeans, but looks and feels good in a dress and high heels as well."

In MM, four new emails came in over the weekend, including one from New York and one from Dallas. HARMAN949 from NY, who of course has no photo, wants to know if I ever wake up really horny. What a lovely introduction. His perfect setting to meet someone for the first time is a hotel bar. How ambitious. The Dallas guy (ROBERTGOO673) has written me before and he is indeed GOO-like, plus his email says only "hi," which I think is even less than he wrote last time.

CHIMALE539 writes that my profile is interesting and that "Best in Show" is one of his favorite movies, too. "In fact all the Cohen brother's movies are very appealing to my sense of humor." Not to be too much of a bitch, but it's not a Coen brothers' movie—it's by Christopher Guest. He's 51-55 but assures me he's been with many women much younger than himself. Not appealing, friend.

NAUTORSWAN453 lives in Springfield and posts no photo. What more is there to say?

Oh, brother—just when I delete Mark's messages from my MM Inbox (again), he returns from the dead. My last message said something about how I'd be the judge of how much of a man he is "if we ever meet." He replied "OK, you can let me know," with an emoticon, of course. Forget it, buddy. If you can't pick up such an obvious cue and run with it, I don't have any use for you or this feeble exchange of one-line, non-substantive emails.

Matt asked via email when I'm leaving for Hawaii. I thought that was a good sign—i.e., maybe he'd suggest getting together before then. And he did—"we should meet up for a drink before you go." He's doing everything right, taking cues and showing initiative.

We’ve been emailing back and forth a bit—nothing too involved. He mentioned that he's interested to see if we'll have sparks, because the conversation is obviously there. As I told him the other night, I think his attitude, which is quite welcome to me, is unusual for guys. He agreed that so many guys will just drop it if sparks aren't evident on a first meet-and-greet. I like that he's what I consider more realistic, as well as willing to put a little more time and effort into seeing whether sparks might develop, instead of calling it quits immediately.

So, he's supposed to email me later to let me know which nights he's available this week. I've already told him I have plans to attend a wine tasting on Thursday night but am otherwise free (except for tonight, but I couldn't accept an invite for a drink in the same day—what would The Rules girls think?). I almost wrote him that the earlier in the week, the better the chance for sneaking in a second date before I leave for my trip. (I'd already explained that we've yet to have a first date, only an audition.) I held off, though. That'd probably be too much.

It's been a while since I've gone shopping on any of the sites, but it seems silly when I'm going out of town so soon. I'm bringing my laptop, but I can't exactly correspond with someone from Hawaii without looking like a total loser. And I know better than to think I can start up an exchange with a guy and hold his interest while I'm incommunicado for a week.

Odd email in Yahoo. He doesn't have an actual profile but instead gives a link to a photo (in which he looks older than his claimed 42—could be the beard), and then proceeds down the list of categories included in the standard profile form and provides his answers. He's a geologist and owns his own house, but he doesn't say where. He smokes if someone with him is smoking—succumbing to peer pressure at your age, John? He doesn't have kids but would like to have a family. He does nothing for me.

No action going on in MM right now, so I figured I’d take a leap and send one more email to Ed:

"Hi, Ed--I'm off to Hawaii next week but wanted to touch base and see if you might want to meet for a drink sometime. I don't usually cut to the chase like this, but so much of your profile jumped out at me. I figure it can't hurt to take a chance!
Barb"

Desperate? Pathetic? Probably, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. And really, what have I got to lose? I've been rejected so many times during this exercise that my D&D (dating and desirability) self-quotient can't dip much lower. And his profile really was striking for all the things that caught my eye:

· Willing to try new things
· Good at appreciating sarcasm
· Would like to learn more about cooking
· Wine drinker
· Values that tend to veer left
· Irritated by people who stand on escalators, suburbs other than Evanston and Oak Park, and unclosed shower curtains
· 12 years of Catholic school
· Likes brunch and films on Sundays, tennis, Frisbee, and anything involving water, as well as REM and reading
· Wants someone to do things with on Sundays and talk philosophy with over wine

Plus he's a college teacher and lives in the area. It's like I wrote it myself, to describe what I'm looking for in a match. Knowing my luck, though, he also has always yearned to be a father. OK, OK—it wasn't necessarily that bad to email him one more time but detailing how perfect he is for me—that's pretty much vaulted me over the border and full into Pathetic Land.

I received an email from an Emoder who takes an interesting approach. Although he writes in his profile that he believes the glass is always half full, his email doesn't demonstrate that perspective at all: "I'm not having any fun what so ever. In to words, this blows." Not that I don't agree at times, but that's probably not a good way to attract women.

Nov. 9, 2003: Slow Sunday

2005-04-26T08:58:00.000-05:00

Big EH weekend—another match came in (but he's 42, with kids, in LaGrange) and Robert in Elmhurst moved us to stage 3. I replied, but my must-haves made reference to no kids, so it should end there. Haven't heard back from Roger yet. I don't think I will.

I also received an Emoder email yesterday, from smiley_dave. He's 5'9” and wants kids (and, in fact, mentions children repeatedly throughout his profile). Additionally, he's into sci-fi, Dr. Phil, bonding/sharing, clubbing, and good sex (as opposed to most people, who prefer bad sex).

Nov. 8, 2003: Roger that!

2005-04-25T09:00:00.000-05:00

EH provided another match, Roger, 35, 6'0”, a management consultant from Evanston. His profile looks very promising: he believes in "lifelong learning," reads (just read "Nobody's Fool," by Richard Russo, one of my favorite authors), likes sports and arts, shows a sense of humor, mentions both NPR and Letterman. I went ahead and requested communication but wasn't very optimistic. But he's already responded. And answered that 0 would be the ideal number of kids!!!

For my other four questions, he opted for the fill-in-the-blank answer option, which is cool. It shows some initiative and creativity. For indoor activity, given the choice between bowling, cooking, shopping, or a video, he suggested cooking dinner together and then a classic movie—that works for me. His idea of adventure is deciding on a Thursday to spend the weekend on another continent. He laughs 17.3 times per day; "statistics and the way they are reported can make me laugh." And he made his photos available, and I liked what I saw. One shows him laughing, another in a shirt and tie, another out hiking.

Now I feel some pressure about my answers to his questions. For my idea of a romantic time, I wrote: "You, me and a bottle of wine, on a beach, by a fireplace (I've got one—convenient, ay?), under the moon, etc." I'm so saucy! I am definitely putting more thought into these responses than usual. And I just heard from Robert in Elmhurst, too, so I'll have more questions to answer. Roger also asked the question about the kind of schedule you'd like your match to possess; I answered that as long as I always look forward to seeing him, schedules can be worked around. See how flexible I am? Or vague?

Turning to Robert. Oh, Robert—he said he'd like two kids. Well, did you read my profile, buddy? His other answers are pretty good—loves to cook, loves to laugh but can be serious when necessary, loves to try new things, chemistry is more than physical. I'll answer his questions but …
I know it's foolish to even think this, yet alone write it (both for fear of looking ridiculous and for setting up a jinx), but I'm cautiously psyched about Roger. I hope we rush through the various stages this weekend and move to open communication quickly. Holy cow! Just looked in my Inbox, and he's replied to the last round already. Well, all right!

Now his must-haves and can't-stands. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Man, oh, man—not only do I think I possess all his must-have qualities, his last one is "I must have someone who shares my desire to not have children." This is getting too good to be true (and yet, I find myself wondering why he doesn't want kids—how hypocritical is that?). Let's see the can't-stands. Holy shit! I just realized our lists, for both must-haves and can't-stands, are identical!

Doh—I just realized I was looking at my lists, not his. Calm down, girlie.

OK, OK, I've settled down. Our lists don't totally match, which would be pretty freaking amazing, but I still think I fit his criteria. Now I need to come up with three short-answer questions. Ugh. I'm copping out and choosing from the EH list: proudest achievement, interest you'd like your partner to share, romantic evening after dating for a year.

Now I’m running out to do some errands. I hope to come home to another communication from Rog, as I call him now.
***
I'm back. No communication from Roger, but he hasn't closed me out either. I thought about some of my must-haves (no kids, need my personal space)—maybe I should tone those down a bit. They might make me seem cold and too independent. Ah, the strategizing. This is all so romantic and fulfilling.

Nov. 7, 2003: The new Ashton and Demi?

2005-04-22T08:48:00.000-05:00

I met Matt at Toons at 7:30pm last night, and he'd already downed almost a whole pint of Lite. He said he's usually early—good so far. Actually, though, on the drive down to the bar Wrigleyville, I was questioning why I was even bothering. He's 29, he lives with roommates, he has a goatee—these were the thoughts going through my head. Where's the love?

He was sitting at the bar when I arrived, clad in khakis and a brown plaid, button-down shirt. My immediate thought was "Not my type." His looks did nothing for me—big bushy eyebrows, sticking up like the quills of an alarmed porcupine, were the first thing I noticed (when did eyebrows become such an issue for me?). Plus, he appeared to be chatting up a girl on the stool next to him. He suggested we move to a table but was sure to give her his name before we moved. "Well, that's kind of poor form," I thought, "scamming chicks while waiting for me." As the evening went on, I saw her talking to another guy at the bar, who she also wasn't with. She approached our table as she was leaving, saying, "Matt, I hope it's not presumptuous, but do you have a business card?" "Huh," I thought. "Very interesting." She introduced herself to me as Heather and apologized for interrupting our "date"; while she went to the bar for a pen, Matt assured me it wasn't what I thought. "What do I think?" I asked, laughing. Apparently, she's in sales, and that explains it.

Anyway, back to the superficialities. While his height didn't strike me as overly imposing (I wonder why), his features were overlarge, like on a clay bust from a children’s art class or a Mr. Potato Head, but that included some big, beautiful blue eyes (although his profile says hazel—must have been the wine and smoke). Definitely his best feature.

So, I don't know what to make of him. He likes both sports and arts, he's an actor but has a good day job he loves. He moved here eight months ago from St. Louis with some friends to start a theater company, which has already done three shows but is now on a six-month hiatus to apply for nonprofit status. I've never seen myself with an actor. He didn't come off as vain, but he's definitely very effusive and expressive.

I was a little concerned early on that he was disappointed with me. He came with the mistaken impression that I'm artsy, from my Yahoo job category and my karaoke photo. But I told him how much I enjoyed my arts class in the spring quarter of grad school, and how I wish I had someone to join me for exhibits, plays, etc. I have enough people for sports and bowling already.
He mentioned some book he once read about the soul, and how the soul equals perfection, whereas our personalities are flawed and yadda, yadda, yadda. He seems into spirituality (a fallen away Catholic, with 12 years of Catholic school, which pales to my 19), and that isn't really my cup of tea, yet we more or less agreed about organized religion—i.e., it's more important how you live your life than whether you make it to church every week. He definitely seems more, I don't know, existential than I am, but women want men in touch with their feelings, right? He said he liked my profile because he could tell I don't settle (I immediately thought of Andy), that I take action. It's pretty obvious he's the same way.

I don't think I necessarily would have pegged him as being 29—he didn't seem significantly younger than me or my friends (which probably says more about us than him). There is the whole roommate issue, but maybe that's a temporary arrangement. Still, as I was on my way to meet him, I thought about how I acted at that age, and how I spent hours and hours in bars every weekend (not to mention during the week), and how I would hate to slide back into that lifestyle. I have no problem spending time in bars, but it's not my primary form of entertainment these days. I ended up mentioning that to him, but he's not that type, which is good.

So I don't know. We talked about a lot of stuff—families, histories, jobs, sports (he's a Cardinals fan and doesn't like hockey—bad, good), Mexican food, customer service at restaurants, online dating, how you can't necessarily judge someone from one meeting. I mentioned how I enjoy getting the email exchanges going, within reason, but he pointed out that those can be even more enjoyable when they go on after you've met, leading me to believe I'd be hearing from him today. And he did outright ask me if I'd "do this again," and I said I would, which I wouldn't necessarily have thought in those first 10 minutes or so. He walked me to my car, very gentlemanly, and we hugged good night. (I’ve since read that you shouldn’t let the guy walk you to your car, lest he memorize your license number. And what? Screw with my DMV records? Some of these precautions sound like they come from my mother.)

He definitely has a good personality, a happy personality. He stressed that he doesn't need someone else to make him happy, but he'd like someone with whom he could share his life. He's also willing to take positive steps to make things happen, which is a trait I admire and find in scarce supply. He's taking cello lessons, for God's sake, and wants to enroll in a sculpture class. That kind of thing might worry me if he didn't have a real job, but he's avoiding stagnation, trying new things and meeting new people, and I respect that. So he's not my type, but I do feel somewhat drawn to him. Of course, that could be because I'm fairly certain he'll ask me out again (although I thought that about Ray, too, and my Ray-dar proved qu Playing mind games with myself, I predict that ultimately I won't turn out to be his type. I'm probably too reserved, too much of a stick in the mud, but I admire his "life is for living" attitude, balanced with a sense of responsibility (read: "real job"). It's funny how utterly confident he was, "POSITIVE," to quote him, that I'd like what I saw. He's not a particularly good-looking guy, not in the conventional sense anyway.

When I got home last night, I saw Tim had called. He left a message, and I liked his voice—strong and confident, not like a salesman. I called him back but left a message for him. I'm hoping to talk to him this weekend.

Matt and I have already exchanged several emails today, and, uh oh, he made a reference to dancing. I established immediately that I don't dance, but then he made some comment about how he'd been wondering if I was a good kisser. I didn't reply for a while because I was in the midst of conducting a phone interview for an article I'm working on, and he grew worried he'd offended me. I have to admit that comments like that, especially this soon, tend to make me uncomfortable, but I know I need to lighten up and just be flattered, instead of creeped out. So I replied that I've been told I am a good kisser. He says he's been told the same thing, and that kissing is the key to so many things in his mind, and he enjoys it very, very much. OK, OK—that's enough kissing talk for now.

EH sent me another match. Robert is a 6'1”, 38-year-old general manager from Elmhurst. He sounds pretty good—active, a reader, likes to travel and learn and try new things. Most influential person was his grandfather, who he makes no bones about still missing. Likes chocolate, cheese, wine, and debate. I'll request communication, but I'm kind of down on EH right now (and Elmhurst is a turnoff). All my so-called matches want kids. But you don't know if you don't try.

I also have an email from a Match.com guy. He's a self-described 34-year-old "Indian male" (was the "male" necessary?), studying for his MBA at U. of C. He claims to be smart, funny, etc., "and also like to wear the best clothes." Interesting hobby. He doesn't have a photo, and his profile appears to be hidden.

So, clearly Barry isn't interested (I know, I know—that was clear quite a while ago). His failure to respond puts that one to bed. At this point, I'm more irritated than disappointed. Why did he bother calling me to say he'd like to get together again, and then not follow through at all? I realize lots of reasons can come up, many having nothing to do with me specifically, but once you raise the expectation of another meeting, it’s rather rude not to at least send some weak explanation for why it won't happen. How hard is it to send an email saying you've met someone else, or you're too busy to pursue anything right now? Or you've realized you're gay?

And what's the deal with these jokesters Jeff and Mark in MM, the ones who kept sending one- or two-line emails? I haven't heard from either of them since I stepped up to the plate and explicitly referred to getting together. Why do they bother engaging in these annoying exchanges if they don't truly want to meet? Why go through it (especially in Mark's case, being the poor "typer" that he claims to be)? Do they just get a kick out of stringing women along? Do they chicken out?

Another Yahoo guy contacted me—Michael, or wizenhimer678. "I'm interested, you tall drink of water! Would you like to talk?" He looks like he might be cute, but he lives in a far suburb, has a kid who lives with him part-time, he's conservative, and his profile text focuses solely on what he's looking for: “tall, approachable, fun-loving and easy on the eye…not high maintenance.” What about you, Mike? Wait—his kid lives with him sometimes, but he has roommates? Odd.

Nov. 6, 2003: Keeping it short

2005-04-21T08:52:00.000-05:00

I received another email from someone who's only going to be in town for a couple days. This one, in MM, is a 29-year-old corporate attorney from San Diego. I do like San Diego … He said he read my profile, and I seem "incredibly interesting. Let's chat and you can tell me about Chicago." Let's not.

That's it for MM—nothing from Mark or Jeff. I did receive another email from Tim. We have a Brady Bunch exchange going now. Nada from Barry.

Matt has sent me three emails since we confirmed our plans for tonight. He's really looking forward to meeting me. Boy, is he in for a letdown. I've warned him it's going to be an early night for me. I think I need to do that to keep myself from spending too much time on these auditions. Even if it seems like it's going well, I need to be disciplined enough to cut it short. If I'm right, that'll leave the guy wanting more; if, more likely, I'm wrong, I'll at least limit my losses.
***
Emode Icebreaker from gsparkleme, or Gene. He's 44, and I can't reply to Emoders anyway.

I'm awfully blasé about my audition tonight. Maybe that's because I have next to nothing invested. Maybe that's best. I'm not expecting much, though. I mean, it'd be great to date someone who's 1) 29 (30 next month!), and 2) 6'6”. But, for some reason, I suspect he's not my type. Not that that will stop me from being disappointed when he's not interested. What to wear? It's pretty damn cold, but I don't like to wear sweaters on auditions—not tight enough. But maybe I'll go with my new green v-neck sweater—reasonably provocative, and it should go well with my eyes. I don't know—who knows what works? Maybe I should stick with the yellow ribbed shirt.

Nov. 5, 2003: Laying out the welcome Matt

2005-04-20T09:28:00.000-05:00

Not a lot going on when I logged on this morning. No replies from Jeff or Mark in MM—maybe they didn't care for me throwing down the gauntlet? What can I say—I was weary of the protracted, going-nowhere exchange of empty, one- or two-line emails. So be it. Unfortunately, nothing from Ed either. That would have been nice.

No word from Dylan the Soulful, since I turned over my digits. The girls are coming over tonight for wine, Mexican food, and TV—let's hope he doesn't call then.

A new Yahoo email came in from a guy named Matt. He's only 29 but assured me he'll be 30 next month—hey, buddy, it's not a problem for me if it isn't for you, especially since you're 6'6”. He describes himself in his email as "tall, attractive, fit, funny and passionate," but he doesn't post a photo. He is liberal and not sure about kids, writes well, and we have similar interests; on the other hand, he lives with roommates. Still, it can't hurt to reply and ask for a photo. As he said in his profile, "no pressure."

Surprisingly, Barry replied to my email from yesterday. He apologized for not getting back to me, blaming a busy week. Uh huh. He said he's headed out of town this weekend to South Carolina for a niece's birthday "tea," and asked if I had any big weekend plans. I received the email while at my volunteer gig and didn't reply until I came home. Commented on the running weather in South Carolina, called him a mint julep kind of guy (versus tea), and, most importantly, told him to let me know if he's still interested in getting together. All the subtlety of a brick over the head, I know, but I just want to know one way or the other. No response, no interest. If he is interested, he can drop a quick line to that effect. Simple enough. No fuss, no muss.

A friend just sent me an email about how someone in her office came across another co-worker's profile in Match. Needless to say, they were mocking out the guy. I guess I can't blame them, but I also can't help feeling like that's violating the person's privacy. I mean, it's not easy to put yourself out there like that. Even though it's right out on the Internet, it's still personal information. You're making yourself very vulnerable and it sucks to think about other people laughing it up at your expense. That's why, when the guys from MU emailed me, I just told my college friends about receiving the emails but didn't pass along their profiles or reveal their usernames (my friends are crafty—armed with the usernames, they would have hunted the guys down in cyberspace like hounds after a fox).

Matt has replied already and is cool with sending a photo. He moved to Chicago eight months ago because most of his friends are here trying to start a theatre company. Hmmm … theatre people, I don't know. He also asked if I've had any luck on the service yet. Not unless you count getting yanked around by a confused recent divorcee and a few one-and-out auditions. If his photo is okay, I might just propose a drink right away. The cut-to-the-chase mood is clinging to me like cat hair.

Matt's photo is actually a group shot. He says he's lost 25 pounds since then and promises me he is "POSITIVE" I would be pleased by meeting him in person. Awfully sure of himself, especially for a guy with a goatee and a receding hairline (those two physical traits go together a disproportionate amount of the time, I've noticed). He also wrote the following, which I pretty much agree with:

"My opinion is that if you like my pic, we should meet for a drink. I think there is only so much you can learn through e-mail. I would much rather be sitting in a casual bar over a drink getting to know you. That's the only way you keep from setting up unrealistic expectations and also the only way to find out if there is any chemistry."

So now, about an hour or two since our first contact, I have an audition tomorrow night with Matt. At least it keeps me on my one-a-week pace. And, according to Yahoo, we're each five-heart matches for each other—nothing doesn't match, as far as what we've indicated we're looking for in a match.

Nov. 4, 2003: Feeling ballsy

2005-04-19T08:13:00.000-05:00

So Tim has asked my last name and who I hung out with at Marquette. At this point in my life, almost 15 years after graduation, I'm wary of being associated with the person I was while an undergraduate (read: fat, drunk, obnoxious). I did earn good grades, but only my close friends knew that aspect of me. And my housemates (most of whom remain close friends) and I discovered years later that our house was not-so-affectionately known to some as the Drunk House.

They say you can't outrun your past, but you sure can try to evade it. I won't go into detail in my reply (less is more, less is more—must drill that into my head), and I'll just hope he and his friends don't recognize my name. In the meantime, I sent several of my college friends an emergency email to see if any of them remember him. I also looked him up in my yearbook, but he didn't look familiar even though his name is nagging at me.

I just noticed he wrote that he preferred Indiana University, where he received his MBA, to Marquette, so I'm thinking our paths might not have crossed—i.e., he was a geek. I kind of suspected that already, from his pictures and his living in Mt. Prospect. But who knows? We could still hit it off.

Over in MM, Jeff has turned me off some more. I asked him if he ever came into the city, and he said "not much, to be frank … have no reason … trying to find that reason." All right, all right—rewriting it here makes me realize it's not really offensive. He's being kind of flirty and maybe even letting me know he'd be willing to commute in for the right girl. Still, how 'bout throwing out an idea for a meeting place? I'm being a little snarky in my response:

"So I guess we should meet halfway. I think there's a nice bar in Terminal C at O'Hare. Seriously, how does Evanston work for you?"

Let's just get on with this, already.

Ed has read my email but hasn't replied. He hasn't deleted it either, so maybe there's still hope. In hindsight, my reply to his email was pretty blah and wouldn't necessarily inspire me to reply. If I was him, that is. I think I've established how low my own standards are—I'll reply with the slightest bit of encouragement.

As if to illustrate, in a fit of neediness, I dropped Barry a quick two-liner: "How are things going? Great day for a run." Just want to let him know I'm still willing. This will definitely be my last move on that front (I'm so principled!). I'm curious to see if I'll get the pink slip or no reply at all.

Another Emode Icebreaker, from playfulinteresting. What's with these guys? Why can't they just write an email, the big wusses? He has kids who live at home sometimes, went to Notre Dame, and doesn't drink. And he lives in Orland Park.
***
I received a new email in Yahoo, from secretserenader. Poor guy is under the impression that, like him, I'm a professional singer. I guess that's understandable—the closest the Yahoo occupation categories come to my job is Artistic/Musical/Writer (what a ridiculous grouping), and I posted a karaoke photo in my profile. According to his profile, Dylan loves children, dolphins, and whales and to sing to his love interest. Knowing me, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from laughing if serenaded—I'm guessing that wouldn't be appreciated. In his photo, he's sitting and playing a guitar, and his interests include dancing and religion/spirituality. He also gives extra points for a cute voice, not something I've ever been accused of having. It’s clear I'm not this guy's type, and he's only 5'10”, but he does live in the city and like to watch sports, so what the hell. I'll give a metrosexual a try. And he does give double brownie points for women who exercise (mmm … brownies). I don't want to get into a dragged-out email exchange, though, because I know he won't be interested in me after we meet. Shouldn't be a problem—he's one of those guys who proposes talking right off the bat.

Alluding to his profile text about how his match will be someone who likes strolling by the lake on sultry summer nights, I added what, for me, is a flirty P.S.: "P.S. I love sultry nights, especially by the water. Maybe with a bottle of wine?" Risqué, aren't I?

I've also supplied Tim with my phone number. He said he can't call tonight because he has a dental appointment—are we talking root canal or what? How long can a dental appointment take? Should I be concerned about his oral hygiene?

No replies from Jeff, Ed, or Barry. Time to let Barry go. If it was meant to be, blah, blah, blah.

Dylan replied awfully quickly. He sings commercials and loves performing anywhere (really?, thinks my 12-year-old-boy-level mind). Music feeds his soul—I am so not for this guy. But he loves my thought about the "wine/vino" and wants to talk. This is moving much faster than normal for me, but I'm feeling reckless.

Mark on MM also responded. My last email asked him how he was doing with the dating (hey, he asked first). I'd just left it at "Well, I'm still on the site." He replied: "Ditto, I think I’m just too much man." Now that opens up a world of possibilities for my response. "I'm sure you do." "You and every other guy." "I'll be the judge of that." He did, of course, append his signature emoticon after the word "man," so I shouldn't be too hard on him (but he can be hard on me—stop me, I'm on a roll). I'm considering trying to move this to the next level by saying something about me being the judge of that if we ever meet, or something along those lines. Too forward? I'm just so tired of this relentless and pointless back-and-forth.

I guess I'm feeling ballsy right now. I'll dash off hasty and ill-conceived responses to both Dylan and Mark. Mark gets "Let me be the judge of that … if we ever meet …" Dylan gets my phone number, which I've been handing out like fliers for an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet. My mother wouldn't be pleased.

Nov. 3, 2003: Blast from the past

2005-04-18T08:24:00.000-05:00

Started the morning by replying to Jeff's implied invitation for an audition: "… a celebration might indeed be in order. What'd you have in mind?"

I'm a little disappointed I haven't heard from Ed. I'm already overly excited at the prospect he presents. I received one email from the guy and I'm already setting myself up for disappointment. Nothing from OREGONGUY either, but that doesn't matter—was I really supposed to sit around waiting for his word? PILOT819 has a photo now—unshaven with a dark mustache. Doesn't change my mind.

Also nothing from the various EHers from whom I've requested communication. In fact, I should check to see if any have closed me down. Yep—Dave, the psychologist who sounded so good, shot me down because "the difference in our values is too great." I'm sure that's a kid-related rejection, but the wording is so harsh. It can't help but come as a judgment: "Sorry, your values are inferior to mine" or "I could never date someone with such low values, and I can't imagine anyone would. You should probably just give up." OK—I'm reading too much into it, I know. But he could as easily have selected the option "Based on statements in their profile, I'm not interested in this match."

Just for the hell of it, I requested communication from the latest EH match, David from Evanston, a 36-year-old financial advisor. He has a four-year-old son, but it's not like any of these guys are interested in me anyway, so it doesn't really matter. I hold out some hope that guys who already have children would be more willing to accept my feelings about having kids—surely, they can be satisfied with what they have, right?

So, back to Big10fan from Match. According to his profile, he's 6'3” and likes travel, bookstores, and sports and is looking for a woman with intelligence and humor. Those, I can provide. He has a master's degree and a good job. Cons—he's conservative and lives in Mt. Prospect. And then there's the two conflicting photos. May as well reply.

Yesterday's Emode Icebreaker came from a 41-year-old in Lake in the Hills. I really am trying to broaden my horizons, but Lake in the Hills won't work for me, especially when combined with his age and his interest in “just dating.” He does seem like a reasonable prospect. Then, again, he used the lame Icebreaker approach. And I checked an atlas—LIH is FAR.

Also got a weird, kind of rambling and definitely repetitive email from a Match fella who's an attorney. He says he lives in Libertyville/Grayslake/Lake Forest, which cuts a pretty wide swath, none of it nearby or very accessible. His profile actually puts him in Gurnee. He gave his personal email address, which includes his full name, so I googled him. He's a partner in a law firm in Waukegan. Among other tidbits, he's being sued by Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance, for extortion because he represented a woman who accused Flatley of rape. She dropped her case, but it appears that Flatley's suit is continuing. Anyway, his email looks like he cut and paste several standard opening messages, all into one message. It starts off normally enough, if boilerplate, but then veers into a long P.S., which includes some nonsense about the Supreme Court and the definition of love. I'm not sure but I think he's actually citing that definition of porn: "I know it when I see it." I eventually looked at his profile, and it appears to be the source of his email text—cut and paste, baby. And he's 5'8”.
***
Just this morning, I deleted all of MARK784's going-nowhere emails from my MM mailbox, and what do you know—today, he writes again. Another one-line answer (with emoticon—his signature style). I'm not going to bother to reply. Or maybe I'll reply with "let's get a drink—this isn't getting us anywhere." But, hey—I'm willing to write. He's the poor "typer," so he should make that proposal. OK—one more one-line reply from me, with no reference to meeting, and that's it.

Mark replied immediately, and with two whole lines—such progress. "How are the dates going?" he asks. I replied: "Let's just say … I'm still on the site. You?" Are we finally moving in the right direction here? Stay tuned.

Two new emails in MM, from MATTHEW262 and VERYSECURE991 (he’s a repeat customer, having first written in September). And two more Emode Icebreakers just arrived. What's going on? Did my profile editing, to downplay my sporty side, make that much of a difference?

I didn't bother changing it in Emode, though. I'm tempted to re-up for a month, although, as I told Ray on our one, fateful evening, he was pretty much the only normal guy I came across on there. Truth be told, I kind of want to do it just so I can email a guy who "wants to meet me," a prospective mutual match. In the small online world, it's someone I recognize, a guy who worked at a bar where I spent an inordinate amount of time in college. I'm sure he doesn't recognize me (but he must have seen that I went to the same college as he), but I recognized him right away. He seems to have lost his mullet (as I have long lost my modified, late-'80s femi-mullet). I'm not interested; I just want to freak him out with "Didn't you tend bar at O'D's?" He's not someone I remember fondly—he was very arrogant and condescending (except for the hot girls, of course, and cool guys) and walked like he had a stick up his ass. He was under the mistaken impression that he was hot shit. He played rugby, but that didn't stop the speculation over his sexual preference.

People change, of course—I certainly have—and his profile isn't off-putting at all. Good photo. I'm curious about our compatibility score (why? it's hardly scientific!), but I can't access that without subscribing. Now, if this was fiction, I'd write him and eventually we'd fall in love. This isn't fiction. And yet …

Back in MM, VERYSECURE is also very presumptuous. "Can we meet for dinner or drink sometime?" Um…how would I recognize you, without a photo? Oh, yeah—you'd be the 5'9” guy of "other ethnic variance" who weighs about the same as me. No thanks. Oh, and his email is SUPERNICE@yahoo.com. Quite the self-promoter.

MATTHEW just wanted to say hi and that I seem quite interesting. He, too, is 5'9”-5'10”, but he's 41-45 and looks older, and lives in Lake Forest. Seems nice enough, and actually referred to a somewhat obscure singer-songwriter I like, but his photo, height, and age turn me off. I'm shallow like that.

Ewww!! I opened one of the Emode Icebreakers, and the guy is shirtless in his photo. That's all I need to see. Buh-bye! The other one doesn't include a photo (a relief after the other) and appears to have checked at least four of the message options. He's 46 and lives in McHenry. I knew there was a reason I cancelled Emode.

So I haven't heard from Barry since his last email. I think if I don't hear from him by tomorrow, I won't hear at all (I catch on fast, don't I?). Lots of possible explanations could account for this—he may have met someone and hit it off, my shine may have faded over time, he may have been put off by my email last week, he might just have decided not to bother. Who knows? He could even think he's insulted me by waiting so long and I wouldn't want to go out with him anyway (if he only knew). Whatever the answer, it doesn't make it any less of a drag.
***
Hmmm. I don't really like Short Jeff's reply to my email where I asked what he had in mind for getting together: "hell I don't know … a few drinks might do the trick." I'm going to assume he was trying to come off as easy-going, instead of scornful, but I think I'll make him come to me for those drinks. I'll ask him when he's in the city. Initially, I figured I would offer to meet him halfway. But no.

I was really visiting MM to see if Ed had replied, which he hasn't. But the MM stalker feature let me see that he hadn't opened my last email yet. Neither has BELDEN, the self-described overweight guy.Tim (big10fan) replied earlier. It's mainly just travel talk, but he did make a Brady Bunch reference, which I caught myself nodding to and gives me a jumping off point for a little humor, not to mention a non-sports topic. I replied with more travel stuff and asked him about college basketball. I told him how I went to MU but don't really pay attention until March Madness. Turns out he went to MU, too. Two Marquette guys in one day—very weird. He graduated the same year as I and with the same major. I'm growing nervous.

Nov. 2, 2003: The eHarmony experience

2005-04-15T08:39:00.000-05:00

A rainy Sunday, perfect for the day I anticipate—watching the Bears game, reading the paper, just laying around waiting for Barry to call. I'm kidding (on the square?) about that, but I do hope he calls. I should call Rob today, but I can't muster any modicum of interest. I've gone back to look at his photo, and replayed his voicemail; his voice is unappealingly soft-spoken, like he's calling from a funeral home or to confirm my spa appointment. This is horrible of me, but I'm going to end communication through the EH Web site and say I'm pursuing another relationship.

While in EH, I'm requesting communication with Dave and checking out Eddie, a new match. I also need to respond to the shorter guy in MM who dropped his desire to have kids when pressed (Jeff, I think). Oops—guess I won't check out Eddie—he's closed me out already. Ouch. Well, not really, because he indicated he's pursuing another relationship. Of course, seconds earlier, I checked the same box when I was closing down Rob, for what it's worth.

Two new emails in Yahoo. I'm immediately ready to attribute it to having re-worked my profile, but that's probably jumping to conclusions. Yep—one email is from Yahoo, alerting me that my profile changes have been approved. The other is from big_fella55779, not a promising moniker at first glance. In his email, he says he's 6'6” and 185 pounds (that seems a little on the skimpy side), is 30, lives in Valparaiso, and wants kids. That makes it easy, as does the fact that his profile isn't viewable.

Ah ha!! Thought I'd run a quick search on MM while I was in there, and Rob came up. We've achieved three stars on the Matchmeter, and he satisfies my Matchmarker. He's East Indian, makes $100,000-$150,000, and thinks he has a nice butt. He likes swing dancing, Linkin Park, and Incubus. He likes clean teeth—how unusual. Do you really have to specify that? In five years, he'd like to make an impact on political and social policy. Isn't this the guy who wanted to start a speed dating service? The political and social repercussions of speed dating boggle the mind.

I've already closed him out, so the point is moot, but I feel like I know much more about him now than I ever got from EH. The MM profile info makes it much easier to make a decision. I guess the question is whether this is a good or bad thing. I suppose the EH model works from the premise that establishing compatibility is the most important thing. From there, you work to get to know these other things about your matches as part of emailing, talking, and dating. Maybe that is better—it prevents you from eliminating someone you might be compatible with because of an unimportant quirk like swing dancing. I think EH propounds that as long as you're compatible, you can work around any differences, assuming a spark of some kind ignites. Still, it's hard to generate any excitement for a match when you know so little about him. You're really just putting your faith in the man behind the curtain who determines that you're compatible. And the various services that work from more traditional profiles condition you to expect a lot of information right off the bat, which is why EH frustrates someone like me. We want the information immediately available, at our fingertips, instead of working to pry it out from the person.

Well, anyway, I now feel bad about closing out Rob for some reason, even though I still don't find him attractive. Not repulsive by any means, just not for me. I do feel badly about pulling the abrupt, out-of-the-blue termination, but it's been done to me. That's probably why I feel bad about it—I know what it's like on the receiving end.

Jeff replied—he's preparing to watch football today. I probably shouldn't have mentioned that a large chunk of my day would comprise reading the paper in front of the Bears game, but I'm not feeling inspired and had to write something. He closed with "BTW, u look good!"

I sent a "friendly reminder" (“just checking in—are things still crazy for you?”) to OREGONGUY, who previously asked me to stay single for 10 days. Could turn him off (I'm henpecking already!), but who cares? I haven't invested anything there.

Email from big10fan1 in Match. No photo, but he offered to send one. He really liked my profile and thinks we might be a good match. And he closed with my signature “Take Care.” I'm shooting a quick reply—“Sure, send a photo.”

Ruled one guy out because he's wearing a fanny pack in his photo.
***
Just jumped online to check the football results for fantasy. OK—and to check if I had any lovin' action. I received responses in MM from Jeff and ABSTRACT. Jeff cheered the Bears' victory and then moved right to asking if we should get together: "are we to celebrate this victory sometime?" Now, mind you, he's shorter than me and lives in Schaumburg, which translates to me as all the more reason to cut to the chase, so I'll give him the thumb’s up, although probably not until tomorrow.

ABSTRACT, or Ed, is a 37-year-old college professor living in Ravenswood, less than five miles from me. He's usually on time and looking for a long-term relationship. His profile revealed a lot of similarities between us but not too many—I'm not sure he even mentioned professional sports. He's more into films (regular, not art), which works for me. He's liberal, spent too many years in Catholic school, wants to live in a warmer climate. According to his profile, he has a lot going for him. Him, I've replied to already (he responded to my introductory email), about the climate issue and clarifying my pet peeve of "chronic procrastination," which he had touched on in his email. The idea of dating a college-level teacher appeals to me a lot.

Did I mention Ed included his Briggs-Meyer type (ENFP) in his profile? I can't remember exactly what mine is, but I know it's not ENFP because E is for extrovert, and mine begins with I, introvert. Going over his profile again, I see lots of things I can reference in email, but I think I'll try holding back this time. Let's meet and then talk (although not too much, too quick).

An email also came in from a new guy, PILOT819. His profile is scant, without a photo (he did offer in his email to send one). He probably thinks being a tall pilot who makes more than $250,000 is enough. Not for this cowgirl. Probably.

Big10fan1 sent two photos. He's not particularly attractive or unattractive, but the photos look like they're of two different people. I'll decide how to proceed on that tomorrow. And the Icebreaker from Emode (acre8ivid). I can guess my reaction to that right now.

Nov. 1, 2003: Playing with the profile

2005-04-13T08:50:00.000-05:00

I planned to start the day by editing my various profiles. I've decided to de-emphasize my interest in sports. Last Friday night over wine and dinner, my friend Roberta suggested I shake up my profile a bit to experiment and, ideally, generate more material for this project. Maybe change my height or something, I don't know. I don't like that idea much—it doesn't seem fair to the guys who are sincerely looking for a match online. It's bad enough that I'm already using so many people as unknowing pawns in documenting my experiences; misleading them would be wrong.

This isn't the same thing, though. I'm not denying my sports interest—I'm just not highlighting it. At the very least, I hope this will make it easier for me to avoid overly long auditions by limiting our most obvious topics of conversation. I'm also deleting the photo I posted of me at Glacier National Park, adorned in a backwards baseball hat, baggy long-sleeved tee, and elastic knee brace, with hands stuffed jauntily in my shorts pockets. Not feminine or figure-flattering, so out it goes. I thought it would make me look well-rounded and up for anything, but oh well. And I'm adding my kids disclaimer from EH to my MM profile.

But first, I received a new match from EH who sounds really great. Dave is a 35-year-old psychologist (could be trouble, I know) from Chicago. He writes that he's Type A at work but Type B outside of it, participates in sports but is also a voracious reader. He has a cynical sense of humor, and is looking for someone straightforward and direct with wit and honesty. I could do that. His friends describe him as funny, easy-going, hard-working, and intelligent, exactly what I'm looking for. Now, I do realize that profiles aren't necessarily true, and there's always the kid hurdle, but I'll definitely request communication with this one.

It's worth noting, BTW, that I've seen very few response to my requests of matches or requests of me from matches since I posted the kid caveat on my EH profile. Oh, well. It's better in the long run. I noticed an email in Yahoo, while I was over there changing my profile. He's 42, smokes often, lives in Naperville (sometimes with his daughter), and quotes the Bible in his profile. He mentions loving kids twice and describes himself as conservative.

Oct. 31, 2003: Societal expectations and the single girl

2005-04-12T08:57:00.000-05:00

This whole exercise is like self-imposed manic depression. And as manic-depressives will tell you, the lows far outnumber the highs.

Last night, after I got home from having drinks in honor of my newly engaged friends, I decided like a fool to check my email. Fourteen pieces of spam, one email from someone I actually know, nothing from Ray, and I feel kind of depressed about it. It's so friggin' ridiculous. I think my despondence in part comes from an inkling that I could very well not hear from Barry again either. That would leave Rob as my only currently "viable" option, and I'm totally ambivalent about him.

I predicted to my friend Julie last weekend that Ray would be an example of how too much emailing builds up the potential for too much disappointment. But I've done minimal emailing with Barry, and I'll be equally disappointed if nothing else happens with him. So how the hell do you protect yourself?

Why does it matter so much, anyway? Is it the nature of online dating or just dating itself, or maybe just human nature, fearing rejection? And how did I get so damn needy? Here's the crux of my situation, really: As someone who's pretty darn happy with her life as a single, is the possibility of having an even better life with someone else (a possibility that grows more remote every day) worth exposing myself to the hurt and disappointment that goes with being rejected again and again (even if it's not always actually rejection of you personally)?

I go through cycles with this. Every once in a while I think, "It'd be so great to have somebody in my life, and, like most things worthwhile, I'm going to have to take proactive steps to make it happen." So I go online and I go through all this bullshit, and then nothing works out and I get bummed out, and I wonder why I've put myself through this and vow not to do so again. "You're pretty happy, so why put yourself in the position to be yanked around by irrational emotions and, more likely than not, end up making no gain whatsoever?" If anything, the only result is a diminished self-confidence.

I think I keep sticking my hand back in the fire in part because it's so soundly drilled into us that we're not really worth anything if we can't find someone to be with us. Society makes it pretty clear that life with someone else is infinitely better than life alone, and if you get the chance, you'd better grab it. And yet, I look around at the married people I know, and, being generous, I'd say one-third of them are happier for being married; the rest seem either unhappy or just resigned. To society, though, they're the normal ones, to be envied, whereas I'm an aberration to be pitied.

The thing is, there's no doubt in my mind that I'm happier than so many of the marrieds I know. I think some of them look at me enviously, at my freedom and my happiness. I mean, my life—from not setting an alarm for the morning to going to matinees during the week—is pretty damn good. But it's not something the marrieds ever considered as a real option, because it's not what society expects. It's not how society defines a full and complete life. What's expected, of course, is pairing up, getting married, having kids, living in a house in the burbs with a minivan or SUV. Out of the fire and into the frying pan, if you will.
***
Maybe I'd be less frustrated after auditions if I took a more business-like perspective when thinking about the "rate of return." In direct mail, a return rate (here, an actual date, as opposed to an audition) of 1 or 2 percent is respectable. Right now, assuming this date with Barry ever happens, I boast a return rate of 33 percent, which would be outstanding in marketing circles. Unfortunately, direct mail isn't quite as personal to you or as risky; a lack of response can't be taken as a judgment on you or your worthiness or appeal (or lack thereof). Perhaps as a reflection on your ability to craft catchy and compelling copy, or target your market correctly, but that's about it. And direct mail is generally pretty inexpensive—not the case with auditions, where the cost per unit can be quite high, financially and emotionally.
***
EH spit out another match—Nicholas, a 38-year-old, 6'5” software consultant in Chicago. I like his profile—he seems to have solid values (although I have no way of knowing what they are, but presumably they're compatible with mine—that's the EH hook, right?), and similar interests and attitudes. He hasn’t answered all the questions, but the ones he has answered show good writing skills and vocabulary (he even uses the work "aplomb," in the description of why his grandmother is the most influential person in his life) and give the impression he knows what's important in life (e.g., freedom and independence, hard work, learning, fitness). Interesting how I'm willing to overlook incomplete answers when I want to but will use the same as an excuse to dismiss someone out of hand. I'm requesting communication from him, but I'm guessing he wants kids.

Yahoo Icebreaker from eyezzof_Ice, who sports a hoop earring and bald pate, and lives in Hobart, Indiana.

First new unsolicited email in MM for a while came from Jeff (ANDMETOO517) in Schaumburg. He's only 5'9”-5'10”, on top of the geographic disability. On the other hand, the Matchmeter gives us a four-star rating. I'm considering giving him a try, but his profile says he'd like to have kids one day. That's a real problem with my MM profile—it only indicates that I don't have kids now. I'm changing it to "I don't want children." Or maybe "I don't have any but yours are okay." That could send the wrong message, though.
***
Just got home from a self-pity afternoon—I let myself take in two movies ("The Station Agent" and "Pieces of April"), then Borders and Cost Plus. Unnerving drive home, what with the hordes of trick-or-treaters and costumed adults lurking about. I found it kind of depressing, to be honest.

It's Halloween night and I'm staying home. That's not unusual. I've never liked Halloween or dressing up in a costume. When you grow up in a constant state of self-consciousness, putting on a costume (the psychological equivalent of yelling "Hey, look at me!") is not your idea of fun. And I have two parties I could be going to—I'm choosing not to. But I feel pretty down right now. Not because I'm home on a Friday night—I'm more than comfortable spending evenings alone and in fact enjoy being able to do so four or five nights a week—but this project is getting to me.

It's not like there's no hope on the horizon. Jeff in MM responded to my coming-clean-about-kids email while I was out, saying he doesn't need to have kids—“they're so expensive.” Plus, he's a teacher, so he works with kids all day. Do I sense some relief on his part? I guess I'll reply and see what develops.

There's also a Yahoo Icebreaker that may prompt me to break my "Icebreakers are from the lame and don't deserve a response" rule. I believe I allowed a corollary that granted exceptions in the case of well-written profiles, and this guy has one. Besides the fact that he's 6'1”, he spent some time writing his “About Me.” Sure, he used the old "comfortable in black tie or jeans" line, but I can overlook that for someone who is "romantic, a gentleman, smart, and athletic," and who demonstrates a sense of humor. Now the downside—he lives in Barrington, and he says he wants kids. I won't let that dissuade me this time, though. His Icebreaker asked "Am I your type?" I'll respond that he certainly sounds like it, but I might not be his type because I'm not really interested in kids. Maybe he'll fold like Jeff from MM did. I'll have to wait to respond to both of these guys—don't want to look like a loser working on this stuff on a Friday night. They can find that out later if it gets that far.

I'm still left shaking my head, though, over how mistaken I was about Ray. Obviously, he hasn't called or replied to my email. Surely, he's received it by now, so I think it's reasonable to assume that things aren't going anywhere with him, especially when we had been averaging an email a day prior to meeting. He hasn't even sent the pink slip. I just don't get it—why spend two or three hours with someone who doesn't interest you or who you wouldn't at least be willing to give a second chance? Why not head out the door as soon as the opportunity presents itself, like when the bartender asks if you want another round? Me, I wouldn't want to waste the time with someone I know I'm not interested in and never will be.

Again, maybe it comes down to my raconteur (read: diarrhea of the mouth) approach to these dates. I mean, really, the type of guys I like would of course have no problem just hanging out and tossing back some cold ones with someone they can talk sports with. As far as they're concerned, once they rule me out as girlfriend material, I'm just a drinking buddy, the same as some guy from the office they don't know well but can kill some time with while quaffing some beers. To me, we're talking for hours to work toward something more—it's an investment. Not so for them. They can talk simply for the sake of talking, without needing it to lead to anything.

Hmmmm—that theory just came to me, but it makes a lot of sense. I'll have to bounce it off a couple of people. But it basically comes down to the same old thing: I have to stop talking so much, if only to stop flushing my own time down the drain. I'd rather spend an hour reading in bed than in a bar talking to some guy I'm never going to see again (there was a time I'd have been happy to have the excuse to hang out in a bar and drink, but those days are gone). Maybe that's very telling, but that's how I feel. Hard to believe I'm still alone, huh?

Well, on that uplifting note, I'm going to shut down for the night. Time to fire up the George Foreman for my boneless, skinless chicken breast and settle down in front of the TV with the paper and some magazines. I'm bummed "Miss Match" isn't on tonight, but I'll find some solace in popcorn (oil, no butter, of course).

Oct. 30, 2003: I was Robbed

2005-04-11T09:14:00.000-05:00

Rob got around to calling last night. He called at 10:10pm, but, exciting single gal in the city that I am, I was already in bed reading. I crawled out of bed to check the Caller ID, but it warned "Private Name, Private Number," so I wasn't going to risk it. He left a message, and I know I shouldn't judge by voice alone, but I wasn't impressed—his voice was kind of wimpy. And he didn't help matters by explaining that he'd be up until 1am, so I could call him until 12:30, but if his answering machine picks up, it means he's stepped out and should return in 10 or 15 minutes. Again, I shouldn't judge by that—he could just be nervous. Lord knows I usually am on these calls.

He also sent a communication via EH last night, to let me know his photo is up. I've asked him twice to use my regular email, but no (already hen-pecking … and he doesn't even know about it). More to the point, after all this, his photo doesn't do anything for me. In fact, I think I've seen it before many times in one or more of the other services. His high forehead is sandwiched between short, dark hair, a long nose and thick brows (dangerously close to a unibrow), and he's somewhat swarthy. He looks as if he's Middle Eastern. I don't have a problem with Middle Easterns per se, but they don't appeal to me physically. Aryans don't do anything for me, either. Now what do I do? Do I close it and come off as the shallow gal I probably am? It's not like our prior communications had me hot and bothered to meet him.

While I try to figure that out, EH has found me another new match. Richard is 38 and lives in Chicago, a telecommunications engineer, and has no photo posted. He's left a lot of the questions unanswered, and what he has written is heavily dosed with misspellings, etc. I'll hold off.

I sent Ray a follow-up email this morning, using the Craig's List/Casual Encounters article as a hook. Now I'm wondering if that article might be sending the wrong message—that I'm looking for casual, no-strings sex. Not that that would be the worse thing in the world … On the other hand, I did say the other night how I just don't understand the mindset involved in casual encounters and, hopefully, came off as incredulous about the whole thing (which I am, kind of).
***
5:00pm. No response from Ray. He doesn't have a job, so he must be online at some point during the afternoon, right? This is a bad sign. So much for my instincts.

As for Rob, I feel like I should at least talk to the guy. Maybe he'll crack me up or something. I'm not enthusiastic about it at all, though. I’m going out tonight to celebrate a friend's engagement last weekend, so I can't call tonight. I'll just email him (through EH, since he won't give up his own email) that I'll give him a call over the weekend.

Emode Icebreaker from sirlancelot47. That's 47 as in 47-years-old. Plus, he lives in Virginia and has kids living at home. OK, 47? I mean, my father died when he was 47 and therefore will always be 47 in my mind. I can't date someone my dad's age. That could be a problem if (like it's really an "if") I'm still single in my 40s, but I'll deal with that when I get there.

Oct. 29, 2003: A Ray of hope?

2005-04-08T08:27:00.000-05:00

I had my audition with Ray last night, and I think it went well. I actually got the sense that he was interested and pleased that we were hitting it off in person, which isn't a feeling I get very often. We'll have to wait and see if I was right, though; if I was a betting man, I wouldn't bet on it.

I arrived at Southport Lanes a few minutes after 8pm, and he'd been waiting long enough to have a beer sitting in front of him. I suppose some women would think it rude to go ahead and order without me, but I prefer to focus on the punctuality. He stood up after I approached him and, although I was prepared to hug, he went in for the handshake. When he stood up, my first thoughts were that he wasn't very cute and perhaps even effeminate—something in his voice made me think the latter. But I changed my mind on both fronts. His voice was fine, and, as the evening progressed (for three hours—so much for making these auditions shorter), I caught myself several times thinking that he was really cute, if a bit of a pretty boy or maybe even a metrosexual. He stood about my height, wearing jeans and a cable-knit sweater, with a big turtleneck. I'm not wild about guys in turtlenecks, but a girl has to make some concessions.
Or, as I almost said at one point, beggars can't be choosers. Ray had commented on being surprised to see in my profile that I'm 5'11”; he said he'd have thought I'd want someone taller (well, in a perfect world, yeah). Thankfully, and uncharacteristically, I didn't say the first thing to cross my mind, which was the beggars remark. There might be some hope for me, yet.

I guess nerves had hold of me at first. I was gushing out responses non-stop, to be honest, but I turned back the faucet and settled down. We had a lot in common, and lots to talk about—few conversational lulls. He started out asking me question after question about my work life—as he put it, trying to get a timeline. Like most people, he assumed I'd practiced law for a while and then burned out. The questions helped me relax (I mean, I did know all the answers and could talk at length). It dawned on me that we were talking only about me, so I asked where he worked. That's when he mentioned he's unemployed (which explains why he's such a good emailer—lots of free time). He was laid off from Fannie May/Fannie Farmer in the spring and took the summer off, after he finished his master's degree program. He just started searching for work again in September—ugh, what a drag. Ray mentioned off-handedly that he'd used his time off to get to know himself better, and, oddly, that wasn't a turnoff. It's not the most manly thing to say, I think, but it didn't bother me at all. Very gracious of me, I know.

That's how he found Emode. He was dating a girl who was very into astrology (o-o-kay…), and she directed him to the site because it's bursting with all sorts of quizzes and evaluations and stuff. The dating part only takes up one section.

Overall, the conversation was very loose and easy, flowing, and we never got around to playing pool. He seems quite open, and we covered a lot of ground: families, particularly our mothers (his is in Kalamazoo but is a snowbird in Ft. Myers) and older siblings (it was nice that he could understand how my oldest sister and I aren't close, rather than judging it), and having older parents while growing up—we’re both the youngest in our families by far and accidents. He grew up in Michigan—mom and brothers still live up there, including one brother who’s around 50 and lives with the mom in Kalamazoo. Talked about Flint and Michael Moore—Ray has family roots there, and they worked for GM. Didn't seem too into pot, which is a good thing—when it came up in conversation, he didn't come across as someone who still partakes—his brother does and it was obvious he thinks he’s a loser. Fantasy football, including the KFFL Web site for fantasy football players (I googled him—hey, that's a precaution every single gal should take—and found an endorsement he gave KFFL; didn't mention that, of course). Broke up with his girlfriend in May. Hasn't traveled much, talked about his bachelor party trip to New Orleans and how he had to bring school books. Seems like he also has toned down his drinking from earlier days. Also bothered by smoke, but we agreed you have to accept that in bars. In response to my inquiry, he estimated 90 percent of his friends are married, which made me think, "What's wrong with you, that you aren't married?," which is totally absurd, for obvious reasons. Big hockey fan, especially the Red Wings—I could live with that, if I must; your interests don't need to be perfectly compatible. We shared some condo ownership tales and woes—he moved into a garden unit about four years ago and said he probably knows more about sump pumps than 25 people I know combined, which seems like a safe bet. Cats—probably shouldn't have told him about how my old cat Sam would eat my other cat Jack's puke. Reality TV. Concerts.

We sat at the bar but swiveled toward each other on our stools. Open-faced, if you will. I didn't, as I'd planned to going in, do much of the casual touching. I'm not good or comfortable at that at all, I think because I'm so self-conscious about it. I worry it'll seem too obvious or pathetic or be very unwelcome. I don't think it comes off as natural from me, like I'm just a touchy-feely person where I can put my hand on someone's arm or thigh and it doesn't mean anything because it's just the way I am. I think it's quite obvious that I'm not that kind of person naturally, and that my touch is a conscious attempt at something.

I drove Ray home, and we talked about Fannie May candy (each different kind has a distinctive swirl on top—who knew?) and an Indian wedding he'd attended, how people mingled during the actual ceremony. When I pulled up in front of his place, I shifted in my seat a bit to face him better. He went in for another handshake pretty quickly, though, and not with the firmest of grips, I might add. I'm sure my hand was freezing, as usual. He thanked me for coming out, and said he'd email or call and if I needed to find him, now I knew where to look. Not the most encouraging parting, but I'm starting to wonder if anyone ever wants to be overly enthusiastic in those situations, when they're not sure what the other person thinks. Is it different when you've met online versus in a bar or a blind date?

I kind of came away with the impression that he was trying to play by the rules, so to speak. I guess it was the handshakes and how we split the check that prompted me to think that. Of course, he is unemployed, so maybe that was a factor with the check.

I've vowed not to email him today, and I'm sure he won't—no guy ever does. And he didn't pay, so I don't have the handy "thank-you note" excuse. By waiting until tomorrow, Thursday, I can ask the innocuous question of whether his weekend plans are starting to come together. He mentioned that, with all his friends married and having other obligations, he can't even begin to try to pin them down for a weekend until the preceding Thursday. I know he's not into the Halloween thing, so maybe, just maybe, we can get together Friday. I shouldn't be thinking ahead like that, though—when will I learn? Rhetorical question.

Barry responded to yesterday's email this morning. He said his schedule this week isn't going to lighten up:

"There is no way this schedule is gonna let up. Somebody somewhere must think I've been slacking off for a while, and now I've got to make up for all of that lounging around time. It's getting a little tricky, because I really need to fit these training runs in."

He asked if anything new and exciting is happening with me, but I'm holding off on responding for a while. I'm definitely getting the idea that he's not much for email. Good—maybe that'll stop him from entering into passionate exchanges with some Match whore. Some other Match whore, that is.

In EH, Paul from Roselle requested communication. He's 43, so I'm hesitant, even if he is 6'2”. I suppose it can't hurt to go a round or two.

I've also got a Yahoo Icebreaker, from crazanimal82. He's 43, conservative, mustachioed, and lives in Romeoville.
***
Paul responded to my five close-ended questions. He wants two kids (don't mind the fact that he's already 43) and says he's serious most of the time but likes an occasional good laugh. I'm going to close this and not even bother with drawing his attention to our divergent attitudes on kids. Ah—I just discovered that the reasons offered for putting someone on hold aren't the same as those for closing.

I responded to Barry's email but kept it light and relatively brief. I didn't even allude to getting together. I'm so coy, doncha know. I did mention my trip to Hawaii in three weeks—maybe that will convey a sense of urgency.
***
Instant Icebreaker from Emoder ravedancer. He wants kids. Leave me alone. He's also a triathlete (too serious for me) and gives only two lines in his text. He's into yoga and takes ballroom dancing class. Metrosexual, anyone?

I think one of these days (I'm not there yet), I'm going to take a different approach when shopping. I'm going to go into a site with a set number of guys that I must email. That will force me to be less picky about location, etc.

As if the gods are eavesdropping, I just heard from another Emoder, who actually starts his email by asserting that the suburb of Darien isn't that far. OK—I'll take a peek. Interesting—a Native American with red hair, according to his profile. Wish he had a photo, I'd like to see that. Skimpy profile, but I note one of his hangouts is singles dances. Uh, no thanks.

In a weird stroke of luck (so to speak), I came across an article online today about the casual sex section of Craig's List. I used the Criag's List Web site last year to find a short-term apartment in DC, but I didn't know about that section until Ray mentioned it last night. I'd been talking about some of the email I receive proposing one-night stands (just to let him know how desirable other deviates, I mean guys, find me). Anyway, it gives me some material to email him with tomorrow. I think I'm going to be more direct than usual, just to cut to the chase. Something along the lines of "It was good to meet you the other night. Hope to hear from you again." Not too pushy but leaving no doubt about my inclinations. In my fantasy world, he'd follow up by suggesting we get together Friday night, with dinner at Magnolia (right near him) and then the Marshall Crenshaw show at the Abbey Pub. What am I smoking?

Oct. 28, 2003: Pre-audition prep work

2005-04-07T08:44:00.000-05:00

It's kind of ridiculous that my spirits are still abuzz from Barry's call the other day. Then again, I am in the virtual starvation phase of a crash diet right now, so maybe I'm just woozy from insufficient calories. I realize the diet thing chalks me up as pretty stereotypical, again, but I've gained almost 10 pounds since I broke my rib this summer. That's not too stereotypical. If my life was a chick lit book, I'd have fallen in love with someone at the accident scene, maybe a witness, a paramedic, or the doctor in the ER, or maybe the truck driver himself. It didn't happen, although I did develop a brief love affair with Vicodin.

My audition with Ray is scheduled for tonight, and he sent another funny email last night. I'm not going to reply, though—I don't want appear overeager, when we're meeting tonight anyway. I might be in a danger zone here because of our email exchange. We've been writing regularly for almost two weeks. Every email has run fairly long, and his have cracked me up almost every time. We have a great rapport going online, so it'll be disappointing if the audition brings it all to an end.

Of course, the real issue right now is what to wear. Should I wear the ribbed yellow shirt, which now is "lucky" because I wore it on the audition with Barry, or the hot pink blouse, which isn't particularly revealing or flatteringly cut, but I'm always told the color looks great on me? I don't think I've ever worn the blouse on an audition, primarily because I'm wearing it in a photo on my profiles. How silly is that? Like some guy is going to remember that.

An Emode Icebreaker came in from safarisam. What do you know—I'm exactly what he's looking for. He has a cheesy mustache (is that redundant?), a sparse profile, and I suspect he's lying about his age. Not at all what I'm looking for.

MM has been very quiet lately. MARK784 must have given up. Presumably, he found our meager exchange as tiresome as I did and wasn't willing to step up to the plate to expand it or talk on the phone. Whatever.

I'm thinking about sending Barry a short email later, just to touch base and see if his schedule has opened up at all. He said it might, so I'm thinking that won't seem too "stalker-y."
***
I emailed Barry this afternoon—a mere two lines, wondering about his schedule this week (which wasn't even necessarily a plea for a date, but could simply have been a polite inquiry about how his week is going) and hoping he's enjoying his rest days from training. In my first draft (yes—I'm doing drafts), I mentioned that I should be free Wednesday and Thursday nights, but I deleted that because I don't want to look like I'm living or dying for our next meeting.

I received an Emode email today from marshallmarshall. He lives in Houston but will be in Chicago for business next Wednesday and wondered if I'd like to get together for dinner, happy hour, or something that night. He includes his phone number and full name (allegedly). Do women actually accept these invitations? And does my profile make it seem like I'd be up for something like that? I think not, at least not to the second question. What's odd is that this guy's profile makes him appear normal. Not like the bisexual guy from yesterday. Anyway, I have plans with the girls that night. Otherwise … not.

Emode sent me another email with 10 guys who want to "meet" me. I'm not sure what the point of subscribing was—the activity level hasn't decreased much since I dropped my subscription. Marshall is one of the 10 and indicative of my level of interest in the whole crew, particularly as most of them are from out of state and/or short.

I've settled on the hot pink blouse for tonight with Ray. I usually go for the more form-fitting tops for auditions, but what the hell, I’ll shake things up a bit. I'm wild like that. Now if I can only stop myself from talking too much and try to be a bit flirtatious. It's so hard for me to remember to treat potential love interests differently than I do everyone else. Of course, Ray and I have emailed so much, he already knows a fair amount about me. Quite different from Barry and me.

As always pre-audition, I took care today to shave extensively and think about my choice of undergarments. Why, I don't know, because I rarely get that far on the first date, let alone audition. I'm lucky to get a good kiss (that may well be due to my poor signal-sending, yet another of my dating inadequacies, but that's a topic for another day). My other ritual, artfully painting my chin and upper lip with hair removal cream, is much more practical.

I just received another Icebreaker from an Emoder, yourfutureexboyfriend. He's selected three of the optional lines Emode provides these wimps, which means that his "message" uses the proclamation "Wow" twice. According to this guy, we have a really high compatibility score and the same outlook on life, and I'm exactly what he's looking for. Sadly for him, he's 5'8”, bearded, and lives in Libertyville. Not at all what I'm looking for.

Over on EH, I haven't heard from Rob since I sent my phone number and suggested he email a photo to my personal email address. What’s he hiding? Joe from Evanston finally got a clue and closed me out.

Oct. 27, 2003: Yahoos in Yahoo

2005-04-06T10:20:00.000-05:00

I'm looking at the latest Yahoo missives. One message just rambles and appears to be a form letter:

"Well Hello,I sit here ready to create to the words to make you swoon, tipsy and even blush.... They will spark your imagination of a man who has drum rolls as he enters rooms. A introduction to end all introductions!!!!!!( what hype!) Yes , YOU can be the lucky girl to have it all with one simple click of your mouse. You say it can be true? You say that this is the stuff of movies...well. You are going to be the star of this movie and I will be your co-star. ( you get top billing , I get the personal trainer) I can tell this is going to be the begining of something wonderful and do you know why...................................................................................................Because we deserve it!!! Yes, we can have it all so what are you waiting for. Send me your response so we may begin our journey to adventure's new, come aboard, were expecting you!!!! The love boat la de da the da la de dada......I am such a drama queen, so do you enjoy some cutting edge theater and the CSO, new dining expiriences and a whole bunch more than I am your guy for the fourth quarter of 2003. I am waiting your reponse.....Dennis"

Doesn't exactly leave me dying to reply. What's strange is that his profile is relatively normal, if lacking a photo and indicating he wants kids and is conservative. Maybe he was drunk when he wrote the message. Regardless, I'm not moved to reply.

The other Yahoo message is from oceanbluelifeiscool, who says merely "I'm interested in getting to know you, if you feel the same." He's a smoker who lives in Munster, Indiana, and describes himself in his brief text as "mild-mannered, curtious and reserved." Setting aside the spelling error, I think I need someone with a fairly strong personality, not reserved.

In the Yahoo Icebreakers, one guy acknowledges in his profile that his photo is 10 years old, plus he's 5'8”. Another guy is 44, lives in Schaumburg, and mentions "mind-blowing sex." I don't think I'm a prude, but c'mon—isn't it a little premature (and immature) to mention that? I mean, yeah, that's what we're all looking for, right? You don't really have to say it. Or is the point supposed to be that you're a mind-blowing lover? Either way, it strikes me as tacky. I give him credit for looking for women as old as 47 (although his 28 minimum is a bit ludicrous, if typical), but he also asks for "Young, seductive and modern in your thinking, style, and appearance (no old fashion grammas, mini-vans or nuns allowed!). Also, please be SLIM, FIT, very attractive and very affectionate!"

Another Icebreaker came from a 50-year-old in Mundelein. No photo, not that it would matter. The last is from normal_on_north_side. He's 36 and 5'11” but no photo and little text. I may well reach the point where I'm less picky about the text and how much they share in the profile, but I'm not there yet. I don't feel like pulling teeth or going through lengthy email exchanges to establish some basic facts and background. And it makes me think a guy is either lazy or hiding something.
***
I received one Yahoo Icebreaker from the disturbing user name of Chicago_bi_guy_seeks_bi_girl. I wasn’t surprised to see he describes himself as liberal. He writes in his profile that he's looking for a "friend, friend with benifits, or a girlfriend for a long-term relationship." He's flexible, if nothing else (or everything else). He continues: "I will TRY alot of things at least once. Looking for another freak." Then he says he likes walking on the beach, concerts, museums, etc. and concludes with "If any of this sounds like a good time, send me a note." Well, gosh, there's just so much to choose from—am I interested in concerts and musuems or freaky things? Um … none of the above.

Oct. 26, 2003: A positive development!

2005-04-05T08:52:00.000-05:00

I spoke too soon (as always; well, often)—Barry sent a pink slip yesterday afternoon:

"Oh yeah. Waaaaaaaay too eary to be e-mailing. If you're gonna be doing the internet dating thing, you might as well be doin' it the old fashioned way.
I survived the long run this morning -- we'll see how I'm feeling after the one tomorrow.
I'll see ya at the race. Try to keep up . . . . . if you can."

Not exactly enthusiastic, and nothing about enjoying meeting me, getting together again, or maybe grabbing a bite after the run, etc. The run kicks off in an hour, and I can't believe I need to worry about how I'll look for it. I usually just roll out of bed and go, with brushing my teeth the extent of my primping. I even considered hitting Sportmart earlier this week to pick up something more "sexy" than my big blueberry Nike jacket, baggy wind pants, and sweat-faded baseball hat, but came to my senses. I really don't want to see him there, let alone while running. If I can avoid him by the start line, I should be okay because he's running the 10K and I'm only doing 5K, so I'll be long gone when he finishes.

Rob from EH replied yesterday afternoon, with a long email. He said he made his photo available, but I haven't been able to access it. He wrote about some of his history—where he's lived and traveled—and how he and a friend want to start a speed dating service, which is kind of ironic, considering how unspeedy EH is. He ended by asking about exchanging numbers, and I'm okay with that. Why drag this out?
***
I didn't see Barry at the run, not surprising considering about 2,000 runners and walkers participated. Quite a few tall guys, I noticed.

Rob replied to my EH email already, but he didn't use my own email address, which I'd included. He sent a short message, basically just telling me he lives in the Gold Coast area and agreeing with me that EH is a cumbersome and slow process. He said to let him know when I'd like to talk, and he'll give me his phone number. I guess that's standard in online dating; the EH "rules of the road" for open communication even refer to it, noting that women aren't comfortable giving out their numbers and prefer to get a guy's phone number. As in so many aspects of this process, though, I'm an aberration, preferring to give out my number.

Anyway, I don't really want to give Rob my number until I see his picture, which still isn't viewable. Call me shallow, but if I find him physically repulsive, I don't want to proceed, let alone give out my number. He said he made his photo viewable yesterday, but maybe it takes EH a day or so to activate. I'll wait until tomorrow and see what happens.

Meanwhile, Joe from Evanston moved us to stage 3 in EH—the lists. He posted some photos, too, that appear to be from a golf outing. He's not particularly cute, but he's okay and he seems like a nice guy. There is that nagging child question, though—he checked two kids as the ideal number. I think I can probably put an end to this by checking "I must have a partner who shares my desire not to have children" in my must-haves. Can't get much more clear than that, right? Especially when one of his musts is someone who is “committed to marriage, home and family.” If he feels that way, why even communicate with me? I mean, I guess I'm committed to marriage and probably home (whatever that means) but, to me at least, family implies children. Ah, and it does for him, too—another of his musts is someone who shares his desire to have or adopt children. Hello!!!! I say in the very beginning that this is not something I want. How annoying. Instead of sending him three short-answer questions, I just typed in that we seem to have very different feelings about children, so we probably shouldn't bother pursuing things.

On a more pleasant note (pleasant until we meet Tuesday and then he loses interest, that is—am I sounding pessimistic?), I received another email from Ray.

Yahoo yields two emails, four Icebreakers, nothing promising.
***
Woo hoo!!! Just got a call from Barry, and we talked for 10 or 15 minutes. I was reading a "chick lit" book back in my office when the phone rang, prompting me to run like a shuffling, sliding, slippered fool to the phone that I'd left in the living room, thinking to myself that I was acting like a stereotypical character in the book. Let's be honest—I was only running because I hoped his name or Ray’s would light up the Caller ID. Ray was unlikely because he went to the Bears game with his sister and brother-in-law today and probably wouldn’t have made it home yet. I was pretty surprised, and gratified, when I saw Barry’s name. He didn't even identify himself after saying "Barb?" Just "Hi!" I like that.

Anyway, we chatted about the run for a while and the rest of our weekends. I was careful to ask about his 12-mile run yesterday (he’s training for a marathon in January) and the concert he went to Friday night (so as to demonstrate I'm not self-centered), and to mention the concert I went to last night (to demonstrate my well-rounded life). I slipped and let out that I'd watched the Bears game, but I didn't dwell on it too much, I hope. I did regret saying how they could end up hurting their draft position if they win a couple more games.

But the important, and amazing, thing is that he said he definitely wanted to go out again! Yes—I've made it to round two, an actual date. Well, it's not an actual date yet, because his week is tightly scheduled already. He said he wanted to let me know, though, that he did want to see me again, and he's going to try to switch one of his plans to free up some time this week. If not, then next week.

So that is very cool, and a much-needed confidence boost. I sent him a brief email earlier this afternoon (but more than 24 hours after the one he sent yesterday) but doubted I'd receive a response, or an encouraging one anyway. Definitely a psychological hurdle I needed to get beyond.

On a less exciting note, I received an email from an Emoder, captioned "Good morning, princess." He's 49, lives in Dundee, and is wearing a bandana in his photo. Oh—and he's looking for a woman with "traditional feminine values," whatever that means. I'm thinking it won't work out for us.

I also received another list of "highly compatible" guys from Emode. I thought those would end with my subscription. They all have skimpy profiles, responding to a lot of the closed-ended questions with "Ask me" or "I'll get back to you on that," and very short text. One guy wrote "I generally find myself alone in a crowd. I don't make friends easily." Well, by all means, sign me up. What girl doesn't dream of finding a loner? Do you enjoy maiming animals by any chance? Another one wrote "I'm a single father of a ten year old daughter back from banckruptcy, divorce and the death of my ex-spouse 3+years ago." Holy baggage! And he's opening a new business. No stress there.

But let's not focus on that. I'm experiencing one of the few "highs" of this experience so far, and I'm going to enjoy it. Not too much, though—can never be sure that date will actually happen. Still, at least he called—that's progress.

Oct. 25, 2003: Biding time

2005-04-04T08:04:00.000-05:00

Saturday morning. No word from Barry. Damn. I did receive another good, long email from Ray yesterday, which will only make the inevitable lack of interest from him when we finally meet all the more disappointing.

I also haven't heard from Rob in EH since I sent him my first actual email. Joe from Evanston replied to the first round of questions, though, and sent his questions for me. Like just about every guy who's responded to the chemistry question, he said he needs to sense a certain chemistry within the first couple dates. And yet every guy I go out with makes up his mind about me after only the one meeting. Anyway, Joe said two kids would be ideal if he were to get married. Then why even respond to me?

EH also came up with two new matches, but they live in distant suburbs. Ugh.

Interesting (to me, anyway) tidbit in the paper—a Census Bureau report shows that more women than ever before are childless. More than two out of five women of childbearing age (15-44) had no kids in June 2002, continuing a steady increase. But have they found matches? That is the question.

So no response from Barry to the email I sent yesterday. I'm actually somewhat surprised. He didn't strike me as the type to not reply at all. I figured him more for the Polite-but-NonCommittal reply (what I like to call the pink slip) type. Oh, well, it's his prerogative.

Oct. 24, 2003: Badgering Barry

2005-04-01T07:40:00.000-06:00

As predicted, I want to email Barry right now. I've already composed a draft:

"Hi, Barry--Thanks for the dinner and laughs last night--it was good to meet you, despite the plumes of smoke floating over your shoulder.

BTW, I'm probably emailing you too soon, according to the protocol (or at least ‘The Rules’), but what the hell? I'm a maverick that way.

Have a good time at House of Blues tonight, and I hope you survive your runs this weekend.
Barb

P.S. Thought I'd offer a little protocol primer since you're such a newbie: If you'd like to get together again sometime, you can answer this email enthusiastically and make reference to calling me or getting together. If not, you can a) send a brief reply, polite but noncommittal, and hope I get the message, or b) not reply at all and know that I'll get the message!"

Note the subtle reminder that we shared a fair number of laughs. I must hold off, though. Objectively, I can see how it would seem like too much to send that so soon, especially the P.S. It's like I'm saying "Make up your mind right now!" Or, as Meatloaf, that bard of the 1980s, would say, "What's it gonna be, boy? Yes? Or no? I gotta know right now!" Just once, I'd like a guy I'm interested in post-audition to email me enthusiastically, and before I email him. The thing is, though, at least in the case where he picked up the check (which Barry did), I feel like it's just polite to send a thank-you. But what seems polite to me, I realize, could be seen as desperate and pushy by someone else.

In the meantime, I'm trying to remember some of the many things Barry and I discussed last night. Those included the difference between women's and guys' experience online (he theorized that more men subscribe because it's safer for them); a lot about running (who'd have ever thought that'd be something I could talk about?); the private school downtown where he coaches girls' sports, and how the parents behave; managing people (he likes it); how long his family members tend to live and how that's not necessarily a good thing; the Pacific Northwest and San Diego as places to move to (he's always thought he could live in the Northwest; I talked about my trip to the area in 2002 and how beautiful it was); moving Mom and how my aunt lives in the same retirement community (he got a kick out of me calling her a spinster; I don't think he caught me adding "like me"); growing bored in a job and needing challenges (why I stayed at my first employer so [too] long, why he doesn't stay at jobs longer than three years); his 23-year-old sister training to be doctor; the appropriate age to have kids (my theory that my mom was too old at 38, him thinking he's probably too old at 39; he brought it up, mentioning guys who have kids in their 50s or 60s); how he went to Michigan and is a college basketball fan; Hawaii.

I'm trying to be more patient with some of the other emailers, such as MARK784 in MM, the guy who sends the measly replies. Yesterday, I sent him a message along the lines of "you're not giving me much to work with here. Do you prefer chatting to the emailing?" So he replies with "I do…bad typer and slow typer," punctuated again with an emoticon. But he doesn't ask for my phone number or give me his. Is he a moron, or really shy, or ambivalent, or not a go-getter? I think I'm going to bring things to a halt with him.

And yet, for some reason, I just sent him another email. I felt compelled to point out how ridiculous it is to sign up for online dating services if he doesn't like emailing, or types poorly: "So this online dating thing must be kind of a challenge for you, huh?"

Random thought on auditions: Maybe I should cut them shorter. Get together for an hour, instead of two or three. That would give me less time to turn the guys off. I suspect a lot of guys make up their minds about a woman in the first meeting, like jurors decide cases during opening statements. Would making it briefer help or hurt me? Less time to do or say something that's a deal-breaker, but less time to pedal my wares, so to speak, to prove myself. All things considered, it's probably better to go with shorter auditions and provide fewer potential reasons to reject me. Yeah—auditions are just too much pressure when you realize this is probably your one and only shot with these guys, or at least with the worthwhile guys.
***
12:30pm. Just sent the Barry email. I revised it, though, and rightly so. I eliminated the P.S. altogether and added something about how I was raised to promptly send thank-you notes, so protocol be damned, basically. I closed by saying maybe I'll see him at the run Sunday morning. Now there's nothing I can do but anxiously wait for a reply and then obsess over what it says and means, if I actually receive one.
***
Active afternoon. MARK784 responded to my sarcastic inquiry about how online dating must be tough for him, with his poor typing skills: "Most definitely … how is it going for you?" This exchange, if you could call it that, has grown very tiresome, casting my net over and over and coming up empty every time. Nonetheless, I replied that the dating has been going so-so for me, how you really need to meet someone to tell if things might go anywhere, but I like to email for a bit to find out if you have similar senses of humor, etc. Then I commented on how he must have found it excruciating to fill out the profile online.

A new email appeared in my MM mailbox, too, from MAYBEYOU570. Although he describes himself as "cute," he doesn't post a photo. He specifies "no fatso's" and mentions finding breasts sexy. He's also usually late and just looking/curious. MAYBE NOT.

Then there's MARLEY154, who's 47 and claims to own an aviation business in St. Maarten. "I would love to know more about your fears," he writes. What? Where is that coming from and why would I share my fears with him anyway? Especially after he says he has no fears. In his profile, under personal habits of others that bother him, he lists "neverousness"—I assume he means nervousness, which isn't exactly a personal habit, but perhaps he's coining a new word for negative people. His social circle of friends are "Important people in Society." How nice for him.

I've also received a couple of Emode Icebreakers (on this, my last day as an Emode subscriber). Anotherscorpio is 51, 5'9”, and lives in Maryland. Realist3 is 45 and still follows his high school football team religiously.

EH found three more matches but no response from Rob. A few of the matches from whom I requested communication (Bill of Wheaton, Michael of Downers Grove, and Michael of Chicago) closed me down. Ouch. Actually, it's pretty painless because you know so little about these people at this point. And I can always blame the kid thing.

As for the matches, Bryan is 42 and lives in Evanston. He's self-employed, 6'1”, and looks fairly cute. He left a lot of the questions unanswered, though. I think I'll wait and see if he reaches out to me. Joe is 35, 6'2”, and also lives in Evanston. He seems like a good candidate—happy, very into laughing, family, and friends, and sounds like he has a sarcastic sense of humor. He wrote that sometimes people don't know when he's just kidding, something I can certainly relate to. I'll make the request of him. Paul is 43, 6'2”, and lives in Roselle. He seems all right, but the age and location are turnoffs. I'll wait and see if he starts anything.

Just did a quick cruise on Yahoo. A couple prospects caught my eye, but they're both smokers, as in "Smokes often," and looking for smokers themselves. Hey—if smoking isn't a wonderful common interest, what is?

Mark in MM replied again, saying entering his profile was horrible and he's overly reliant on his assistant, who's a greater "typer." More troubling is the continuing inability to communicate without emoticons.

Oct. 23, 2003: Being with Barry

2005-03-31T08:34:00.000-06:00

I started the morning by replying to Rob in EH. I wrote about my work a bit and school, and also answered his question about my travels. Concluded by asking him about his travels, where he lived before Chicago (one of the things he's glad for is to be back in Chicago, per his profile), and what type of business he hopes to start (also from his profile). And I asked about his photo. I think it's a little ridiculous not to give me a gander if he expects this to proceed at all.

I also replied to Ray. His email was so long, but I held back some (partly because I had an appointment to get to). I'm becoming too invested in our exchange (as opposed to Barry, with whom I've barely communicated in comparison). I talked a little more about fantasy football but was careful to work in my plans to hit a wine sale and go out to dinner with a friend tomorrow night, so as to demonstrate non-sports interests.

I cleared Tom’s messages out of my Inbox, and I noticed he sometimes used Lucinda Sans in his emails—what kind of a font is that for a man to use? Not to mention the fact that his email address has the word DÉCOR in it. Yeah—I need someone more manly. Which reminds me, Barry hasn't gotten back to me with a time for tonight yet. I will not panic.
***
Barry just called to confirm a time for tonight. Nice touch—more personal than doing it by email. I like his voice—low and hearty, very manly but with a touch of humor and self-confidence. He works for Bank One; he called my non-business line and the only reason I answered is because I thought the call might be about my line of credit. Uh, oh—wonder if he has access to any of my financial history. Maybe he'll find my sterling credit history to be sexy. Anyway, we're on for 7:30pm or so. He said he needed to go for a run first—but I thought his work day ends at 3pm. Maybe I'm his second date of the evening.

Over on EH, two new matches have turned up, Edward (47—too old) and Lenny (44); Lenny requested communication. I also have three earlier ones that I need to decide whether to pursue—Michael (35, Downers Grove), Brian (33, Woodridge), and Adam (39, Evanston).

I requested communication with Michael. He can't live without golf clubs and chocolate; on the other hand, family seems really important to him so he probably wants to be a dad. I think I'll skip Brian. He has a photo and isn't really my type, plus I don't even know where Woodridge is located and Ronald Reagan is the most influential person in his life. And his passions include his niece and nephew—i.e., father material. Adam is a yes, mainly because he lives in Evanston. Nothing in his profile jumped out at me, other than being thankful for his mom (nice) and living in the USA (Republican? Country music fan?). No go on Lenny. He skews old, has kids, and uses the words "sucks" and "lover" in his profile (not together, thankfully).

Overall, though, I've reaped more "matches" (26) from EH than I expected, considering how rare they make it seem and that factoid in the US News article about the thousands enrolled who haven't scored a single match. The kid thing probably hurts me as far as moving forward with these guys, but I can't blame EH for that.

On the other hand, I expected more action in Yahoo. I received a new message today, but in general they're really dribbling in for me. The guy today, fairgame341, is 44 and lives in Roselle. I have to give him credit for recognizing the "Life is Good" reference in my headline, though—he guessed that I probably own a number of the “Life is good” brand t-shirts and called them "cute."
***
Sigh. So it's 10:23pm and I just got home from my audition with Barry. I really liked him and thought it went fairly well, despite the occasional conversation lull, but I'm already bummed. I'd really like to see him again, but I’m pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way. You know, I need to pay more attention to what these guys say at the end of the audition (e.g., "I'll call ya" or "Nice to meet ya"). He's planning to do the same race I'm running in on Sunday morning, and yet I was the one at end of the night who said "I'll look for you Sunday" or something to that effect.

What is it that I do wrong? Maybe I need to accept that I'm physically unattractive. Barry wasn't. He's tall and fit, with blue eyes and graying short hair. Good looking. He has a sense of humor and can converse. Thus, out of my league. Frankly, it's hard to believe he's available.

Anyway, from a chronicling standpoint, he picked me up on time, at 7:30pm, in a red button-down shirt and jeans; I wore jeans with a long-sleeved, yellow ribbed shirt, with a scoop neck. He drove a black SUV, but I told him it made more sense to walk to Charlie's from my place. He said he liked how much parking was available on my street—wouldn't that be a good quality in a girlfriend, I thought to myself.

We sat on the bar side at Charlie's but in a booth, where we commiserated about the cigarette smoke. We shared an appetizer (chicken quesadillas) and each ordered a salad, and worked through three rounds of drinks. After he paid the check, I suggested we move to the bar (where we were served by the same bartender who waited on Mike and I last week), so I could buy a round. I really enjoyed the whole thing and would have liked to stay out longer, but I didn't want to drink anymore, and he gets up for work at 5:30am.

Needless to say, I didn't do a very good job of holding up my self-imposed rules on how I should act. Talked too much. Mentioned the meningitis thing—"I told my mom I thought I'd be okay if I stayed out of my usual leather bars and bathhouses" (which, of course, was a lie—I didn't tell her that). But I did make a point of turning towards him full-body when we were sitting at the bar. He didn't reciprocate.

He mentioned receiving three or four emails from Match chicks yesterday, and that I was his "first" Match date (why should that bother me? I have a "date" with Ray on Tuesday). My only hope is that he's new to the whole online thing, doesn't know the protocol, and will think he should ask me out again, just as a matter of form. At one point, he mentioned that he really liked Charlie's and would definitely be back, but then he modified that statement, saying he'd go to the one by his place. So you don't expect to return to my 'hood, Barry? Is that what you're saying?

I'll write more tomorrow, when I can recount what we talked about. Right now, I'm too bummed out about how I think we're pretty compatible, and I definitely find him attractive, but in all likelihood, nothing will happen. I can't deal with this right now. I only hope I can restrain myself from emailing him first thing in the morning.

Oct. 22, 2003: Shameless

2005-03-30T10:36:00.000-06:00

Huh—no response from Ray or Barry to my last emails. I haven't heard from Ray since Monday evening. Were my last emails too snarky? Have they met someone else or decided I’m not their type? I know it's ridiculous, but I can't help but start thinking these types of thoughts when the communication flow lulls.

I heard from Rob in EH, though. We're in open communication now, but he still hasn't revealed his photo—makes me a bit apprehensive, I must admit. His first email is fairly rudimentary, just asking me about my work and travels. I'll answer later, and try to find something from his profile to ask him about.

MARK784 replied with another scant email. Re the lotion-man crack: "I think I can handle that" and then just a list of his activities. Three more uses of ellipses and one emoticon. Not much of a conversationalist. Also in MM, BLUEYEZZZ557 sent an email, with his other email address, aviator_rocks@hotmail.com. He asks if I have any photos—uh, yeah, four are posted in my profile! Anyway, he's a smoker living in Streamwood, with a bushy beard and hair, and two kids. His favorite movies include "Tommy Boy" and "Old School." Need I say more?
***
Well, being the insecure, lame ass I am, I've sent both Ray and Barry new emails this afternoon. And, to exacerbate the lame-ish-ness of such a move, I referred in both to how I'd just returned from my volunteer gig, where I was packing condoms ("let me rephrase that—packaging condoms"). I have no shame.

An Icebreaker came in while I was out, from Quicktimer at Emode. He's 55 and 5'8”, and used four of the optional lines Emode offers. One was "You're the kind of person I could grow old with." Um … yeah…but then who'd grow old with me? You could easily be six feet under by the time I reach your age. No photo, of course, and lots of misspellings, as in "I am well past the bar seen." The soft red light bulbs in his bedside lamps are awfully alluring, though. Not.

Phew. Barry replied, and we're on for tomorrow night. Unfortunately, he suggested Charlie's for a drink or two and maybe eating there. Déjà vu. 1) Whatever will the bartender think, me in there on another Thursday with another guy? 2) I haven't exactly basked in success there. Anyway, Barry said he could pick me up or we could meet there. Now, I know dating safety and my usual reticence would typically lead me to say I'll just meet him. But I think I might go out on the limb this time. Maybe it'll change my bad mojo.

Ah, and I just received a very lengthy email from Ray. Why am I such an alarmist, especially about people I've never even met? Ray's email elicited several laughs, and he includes his phone number. He wrote a particularly funny riff on my condom line:

"Volunteer work? You're a do-gooder. Where at? Are you handing out cookies and condoms at you're nephew's college campus? I can see it now. Aunt Barb, what are you doing here? You're embarrasing me! Or are they starting sex ed at the kindergarten level? Here are you cookies and condoms kiddies. Now it's nap time. Billy, get away from Susan and zip up your pants."

OK—maybe I'm overstating the hilarity of it, but it made me laugh. Of course, I'm feeling generous toward him just for continuing the correspondence. And, I realize, setting myself up for disappointment, as well. I know all the pitfalls; I just can't seem to avoid them.

On a somewhat related note, I just listened to a message from my mother, who "got the unhappy news at lunch today" about a meningitis "outbreak" in my neighborhood. Of course, it's not in my neighborhood—it's in Boys Town, but she hears “gay neighborhood” and immediately thinks of me. Heartwarming, I know. She suggested I go in for the free shot being offered, but I think I'll be okay if I avoid bathhouses and leather bars. I mention this because, knowing me, I'll probably work this tidbit into conversation with Barry tomorrow night. I have a knack for making such bizarre conversational turns that probably portray me as a real weirdo.

I've been thinking about why I have such trouble getting a second date, and I think part of it is that I talk too much, partly out of nerves, partly out of wanting to show the guy how much we have in common. He mentions something, and I have to respond with, "Oh, well, I blah, blah, blah." It's not a matter of one-up-manship but wanting to establish common interests or background. I should work on that. Talk less and/or ask more questions. Leave 'em wanting more, create an air of mystery. Play hard to get. You know, don't be so open and don't lay myself out so much. Leave a little something for next time, something for them to get to know later. Don't be so eager to please and don't make it so obvious what a great pal I'd make. Friendship is not the ultimate goal here, only part of it.

Along those lines, I'm not doing my usual immediate-response thing to Barry and Ray's emails (especially Ray's—it's so long, I don't have time to do it justice right now). Oh, and I need to reply to Rob in EH, too. I'll wait a couple hours at least. Such restraint, I know. I should, however, put it on the record that I'm known far and wide for my prompt email responses; it's not only with potential suitors that I'm like a short-circuited ball machine, firing the next reply before the sender can settle back in receiving position.

So I guess Tom didn't fall for my pitch/impassioned plea to give the "opposites attract" theory a try. I don't really care at this point, but how humiliating. I have to get it through my thick skull (as my mother would say) that I shouldn't have to talk a guy into going out with me. I deserve better than that … Right? It comes back to those same persistent, vexing questions—how much am I willing to compromise and how much can and should I hold out for?
***
I received a pretty lengthy Emode email from lup8. First, he lays out his credentials as a news junkie, which is fine, but then he launches into his legal career and failed marriage, and how his life has evolved into a "very satisfying tapestry." He also offered a disclaimer for his photo:

"Don't be put off by my picture; quickest way to get digital pics was a friend at the office; despite the tie and french cuffs, I assure you (as my friends all would) -- I'm not a disgustingly arrogant, insufferable, pompous, coddled, overly indulged and catered to lawyer (do I sound like I know big law firms or what--lol), and never will be. People always come first with me."

Funny how I love the long message from Ray but am put off by it from this guy; of course, this is unprompted revelation—like I said above in relation to myself, don't give it all up right away. And I complain about MARK in MM not divulging much, so I should be happy with this, right? No … too much, too soon; we haven't had any back-and-forth.

The original epistle came in at 12:58pm At 3:22pm, he sends a follow-up, elaborating more on the end of his marriage and its results (i.e., cooperative relationship with the ex over the kids and a more empathetic view on life for him). This is way overboard at this point, my God. Talk about coming on too strong. And I'm not even interested anyway—he's bald, 5'9”, and has kids who sometimes live with him in LaGrange.

I should clarify. I'm not saying I would never date someone in the burbs and/or with kids, but I'm not going to actively pursue such a guy at this juncture. I don't rule out either as something that could happen, but those aren't among my preferred situations. I mean, Greg has a kid, and I was ready to try that on for size.

One Icebreaker on Yahoo. No photo, lives in Elgin, has kids at home full-time. An interesting line from his profile: "if you're not happy, well that's okay because if i were i wouldn't place this ad, right?" How enticing. It's also, I think, a generalization and an inaccurate one, at that. I don't think everyone who tries online dating is "not happy"; to the contrary, it seems like a lot of the people I communicate with or even just read about are quite happy, just looking for one final piece to the puzzle.

Oct. 21, 2003: Hot matches--NOT

2005-03-29T09:11:00.000-06:00

Plenty of EH mail waiting for me this morning—three new matches and communication from Rob. I answered Rob's three questions—what I could do to improve the quality of my life right now; what I find physically attractive in a man; and what would I do tonight, if I was assured of no costs or reprisals. For the attractive question, I unfortunately found it was easier to come up with things that don't attract me—long hair, most facial hair, tattoos, piercings, overly buff or overly fluff. I did say a nice, easy smile and friendly eyes, too. As far as quality of life, that was a throwaway—I'm pretty satisfied with the quality of my life; all I need is you! Kidding. The last one was tough. As I wrote, I'm sure I'll think of lots of better answers; in the meantime:

"I have pretty simple tastes--Mexican food and bowling, a sporting event, or just drinks with friends always sound good. But if money is no object ... maybe a nice dinner (surf 'n' turf, chocolate dessert) on a boat, a moonlight walk and who knows from there .... All in a warm climate, of course. If we're talking about a non-romantic event, maybe rent a rooftop or box at Wrigley and provide transportation, food, and beverage for friends and family. Or do the same thing at Ravinia. Again--this one is really tough!"

The next stage is open communication, I believe, and presumably he'll unveil his photo then. I worry a little that the question about what I find physically attractive may betray a lack of confidence in his physical appearance, but I guess I'll see. Unless he's a fat, long-haired guy with a beard, tattoos, and piercings, that is. Then I probably won't hear from him again.
***
OK, I'm almost certain I won't renew Emode. The latest "Mutual Matches"/"these people want to meet you" email it sent me presents 10 guys, ranging in age from 19 to 54, including four who are 49 or older. The 19-year-old is 5'5” and lives in Cincinnati. He graduated from high school last year, has kids, and wants more. That's so sweet. And it's practical that he's getting the kids out of the way now—he won't have to worry about it in his 40s (although he might want a fresh batch by then).

The last five "hot matches" Emode sent had no photos, and most were too short. Their profiles were all very minimalist, as well. I just don't think the kind of guy I'm looking for is on Emode. I wonder how Ray slipped through. He seems way too normal.

I did receive an Emode Icebreaker yesterday from someone, calmandconfident, who sounded fairly normal in his profile, if overly effusive in his message:

"It's incredible to finally find someone who has the same outlook on life as I do. Were we separated at birth? We have so much in common it's almost scary. Wow. You are exactly what I am looking for. You've got a great way of expressing yourself."

Hah! I thought that line about how I express myself sounded familiar, so I searched my deleted messages and found it in three Emode Icebreakers I've previously received. Turns out Emode offers a list of a dozen lines you can send:

Wow! Our compatibility score is really high!
You caught my eye because of your great sense of humor.
It's incredible to finally find someone who has the same outlook on life as I do.
Let's face it. You're sexy.
It's inspiring to find someone who shares my love of religion.
You are my complete opposite. And I like that.
Were we separated at birth? We have so much in common it's almost scary.
Wow. You are exactly what I am looking for.
I appreciate how grounded and down to earth you are.
You've got a great way of expressing yourself.
Your strong spiritual side really drew me to you.
You're the kind of person I could grow old with.

How unbelievably lame. Yeah—I'm canceling.

I've decided not to even bother answering Dave. If he wants to meet, he can take the initiative. We don't need an ongoing string of empty emails.

I sent Barry an email, just to touch base and, ideally, confirm for Thursday. My first draft made a crack about how he's probably been flooded with Match email, but I took that out for fear it could be misinterpreted or sound catty or possessive. Instead, I said something in the final paragraph about how I hoped he was enjoying Match but not too much. Flirty, for me. He's responded, and now we're just nailing down the details: drinks, dinner, dessert? Hmmm—was dessert supposed to be innuendo, I wonder?
***
MARK784 from MM responded, but very scantily—four or five incomplete sentences, depending on whether you count his apparent offer to oil me up in Hawaii ("need a lotion boy? :-)"). Two emoticons in only 35 words—impressive. Do I bother responding? He's obviously not willing to give up much information, which isn't a good indicator for future relationships. It's surprising, because his profile is pretty complete, with no less than five photos! And he's 6'1”-6'2”.

What the hell—I responded that I would prefer a "lotion man." Didn't pursue that line of repartee further, though, just went on to ask what he does for fun when he's here on the mainland. Seems like he travels a lot.

Yikes—I'm shopping on Yahoo, and Greg's profile came up. He's posted a new photo, and I almost emailed him, just to let him know it's a good picture and send him sympathy over the fate of the Red Sox. What's wrong with me, for God's sake? It's so bizarre how you can come to feel like you know someone you've never even met.

Oct. 20, 2003: Flirting with disaster (or not)

2005-03-28T08:16:00.000-06:00

Well, doesn't look like I survived the cut with Mike—I've heard nada from him. I just don't get it. Do guys make up their minds that quickly, is it that black or white for them, or am I just that repellant? I'll pretty much always go on a second date, if asked. It seems hasty to judge someone by one meeting—people have bad days, might be nervous, etc. Unless, of course, someone holds absolutely no interest physically or has no discernible sense of humor or is rude or racist or something. Which of these categories do I fall under for these guys? What is it about me that makes a guy so sure in such a short period of time that he does not want to see me again, especially after having had good email exchanges and/or phone conversations?

I don't know that it's something I'd have the nerve to follow up on with the guys, asking them to explain. It's one thing asking why they stopped preliminary email exchanges, but once they've actually met you, it could be really crushing to the ego to hear their answers.

I wonder if I'm not flirty enough. That's something I'm just not good at; I never learned how. I didn't have the self-confidence for it when I was younger, at the age when most women are perfecting their flirting skills. Now that I do have more confidence (even if I’m not coming off that way here), I just don't know what I'm doing flirting- or signal-sending-wise, and, as a consequence, I feel silly and self-conscious even trying. It definitely doesn’t come easily to me, especially sober, and I don't like to get that drunk anymore.

On a more pleasant note, I received another email from Ray this morning, and it turns out he lives not too far from me. It doesn't look like our schedules are jibing for this week, so I hope we can hook up next week. Speaking of hooking up, I don't mind saying that I'd really like to get a little lovin' from one of these guys and soon. A girl has needs, after all.

Rob from EH has taken us to the next level—must-haves and can't-stands. He must have a person who has a passion for the arts. I wouldn't say I have a passion, exactly, but I'm certainly interested in the arts, and I'd like to become more involved. Otherwise, we seem fairly compatible from these lists, and I've sent him three short-answer questions. In one, I asked what he means by "playfulness" because his profile says that's the most important quality for his partner to possess.

My Emode subscription comes up for renewal at the end of the week. I'm thinking about letting it go. Other than Ray, I've been really unimpressed with the Emode prospects.

Over on MM, I sent a reply to MARK784, who didn't give me much to work with in his reply to my initial email. He travels a lot, so I wrote about my upcoming trip to Hawaii. I'm deleting the email from ACHALLENGE860, who’s 46-50, 5'9”-5'10”, with a walrus mustache. An attorney, he lives in Oak Park, and yet has chosen to be a "non-driver." He blames his deep commitment to ecology and not needing a “motorized-vehicle-as-an-extension-of-his-ego.” I'm thinking DUI. He asked how big of an issue age is for me—big enough.

I'm such a loser—I'm sending Mike one last email, to be on the safe (read: pathetic) side. Just a light-hearted missive, sharing this great quote I read in the paper yesterday: “Ultimately, Cubs fans are just Charlie Brown wandering in the park looking for Lucy and the football.”

Well, Mike replied, but it was pretty noncommittal:

"Yes that is sad but true. Well my last relaxing weekend is over, I must now start boxing up everything own and get ready to move next week. So not looking forward to it. Mike"

I'm either not going to reply, which would be the dignified thing to do, or reply with a breezy "good luck with the move, I'm sure you'll survive" type of thing. And let's remember—he's moving into a house his roommate just bought. Not a good thing. The roommate, BTW, who had "an old" bag of pot tucked away in his room when the cops searched the place the day of Mike's drug bust. Drug bust, mind you!! Yeah—I'm not replying at all. Cut my losses and focus on the future—Barry and Ray. Although the Ray thing is far enough off that it could very well not happen. And, if Barry truly is new to Match, he's probably getting flooded with emails and might get caught up in the whirlwind of possibilities. I could just be a demo model for him. If he's receiving lots of mail, why settle for one of the first women he meets?

Nonetheless, I suppose it counts as some progress that two guys even want to meet me, and proposed it on their own. Baby steps (if you can make those with size-11 feet).
***
I just came across Mike's profile while running a quick search on Match and noticed it'd been active within the past 24 hours. Turns out he added a shirtless photo of himself, post-marathon. Nice bod, but I'm not crazy about guys who post shirtless photos. Not that it matters at this point, but I probably never would have emailed him to begin with if that photo had been up. Really, I swear!

Dave replied. He rambled a bit about baseball and said a drink would be great. But then he said he'd be out of town for a few days next week—already making excuses. I'll reply that he should let me know when he's free. I'm not expending any more energy on him. I've probably already spent too much time, but I admit to being drawn in by the fact that he says in his profile that he likes to kiss … a lot.

Oct. 19, 2003: Speed dating

2005-03-25T08:29:00.000-06:00

No reply from Tom, to what I'm increasingly seeing as a pathetic plea to give me a chance, or from Mike, to the Yahoo news story I sent him Friday. Of course, it's a beautiful weekend and maybe they're just enjoying it offline, blah, blah, blah.

EH thinks it has found me two new matches, Mark and Carter, and Yahoo has a new message. In Yahoo, thanasis633 is 5'9”, lives in Lisle, and wants kids. In EH, Carter can't live without Fox News Channel—there's a Texas-sized, Confederate-patterned red flag. Elsewhere in EH, I’m seeing no progress in my "ongoing matches." No replies from six guys from whom I've requested communication, and a couple others, where we made it to stage 3 or 4, have died on the vine after the kid issue reared its ugly head. I'm not surprised by this turn of events—every EH guy can now see right from the start how I feel about kids, so why would they communicate?
***
Hey, hey—just got notice from EH that Rob, the one who mentioned his speech therapist, has answered my first five questions and what you do know—he says zero would be the ideal number of children. Houston, we have contact. I've found my husband! Seriously, though, that is encouraging, if only to know some guys out there feel that way. His five questions are encouraging, too, about the importance of chemistry, my idea of adventure, what kind of date would I prefer, my comfort level with physical affection, and whether debating the issues of the day is enjoyable. As for the last one, it's tricky—it could indicate either a fondness for debating on his part or a strong aversion. I guess you could say that for a lot of these questions. But I forget—you’re expected to answer honestly, not just give the answer you think the guy wants to hear.
***
I called Barry but no answer, which was somewhat of a relief. I don't why, but I definitely prefer not to be the one making the call. Regardless of who initiates the call, though, I'd have to say the phone call is my least favorite stage of this process. I think I might even prefer just going from email to audition. Those phone calls can be so nerve-wracking and awkward. They should come with Valium. On the other hand, several calls in the past have lasted an hour or more. Of course, nothing ever happened after our first meetings, so those were essentially the equivalent of a yet another long email string gone unraveled.
***
Just talked to Barry—went very well, if I do say so. He caught me in the middle of working online on my fantasy football team, and I started talking about that for a while, but then tried to steer the conversation away from sports. After the feedback from Tom, I’m wary of seeming too Sporty Spice. But conversation flowed easily, from his work (with traders in foreign currencies), our weekends (including Mexican food and Sedaris for me and ultimate Frisbee and dinner at the Weber Grill for him), running, and weather (he's not a winter fan, either, and has lived in Phoenix, Tucson, and L.A.) to the hot dogs I'm making for dinner (hope he didn't think that was innuendo), my experience with Match, and my neighbor's premature Halloween party last night. "Geez, is he having a Christmas party next week?" he joked, to which I replied, "I don't think he celebrates Christmas." My neighbor's name is David Schwartz. Hope that remark didn't sound like a slur.

Barry claims he's a first-timer on Match (I tend to believe him because he said he wasn't telling anyone that he’s wading in the online dating waters—he's wearing the shame and embarrassment of a newbie), and unfamiliar with the "protocol." "So what happens now? Can we meet?" he asked, but it was more "Is it allowable to meet?" than "You sound great! Would you like to get together?" I said, yeah, I'd love to get a drink or something. Then the conversation detoured a bit. Anyway, we're meeting for dinner and drinks on Thursday. He asked whether I prefer drinks or dinner, and I said I was flexible ("I like that," he interjected), we could even do both. So, both it is. He's supposed to call me Tuesday or Wednesday.

That was one of the better pre-audition calls I've had, and he's 6'4”, so I'm mildly optimistic (I want so badly to be optimistic for every audition, but that optimism has reared back and slapped me in the face so many times it’s very difficult). This makes a nice end to the dating week, especially considering I haven't heard at all from Mike, Tom, or Dave (not that I care that much about Dave). Jim also seems to have disappeared, but again, no big loss. He sports a goatee, after all.

Doing some maintenance work while the wieners cook (really—not an innuendo), I'm deleting BADADVICE999 (41-45, Carol Stream, 5'9”-5'10”, with a really unappealing profile—his favorite subject in school, e.g., was Sex Ed) and KIRBYK492, the guy from Elmhurst.

Ooh—another good message from Ray just came in, and, to top it off, he suggests we get together. Even better, he goes so far as to actually outline an outing—drinks and pool, which he noticed I like from my profile. Attention to detail and initiative. He's a keeper. And, being the loser and poor game player I am, I'm responding right now! Two dates in about 15 minutes—that's more like it. Talk about speed dating!

Back in MM, I still need to respond to MARK784 and OREGONGUY, but I'll wait until tomorrow, and play hard to get. Yeah, right.

Oct. 18, 2003: Topless photos

2005-03-24T08:45:00.000-06:00

This morning I opened an email from Ray, sent last night. I love him. I'm kidding, of course, but he continues to show a lot of promise. Good, funny emails that also reveal his interests and his background. I'd like to meet him. Not an NPR listener and didn't know who Sedaris is, but no big deal. At least he showed the gumption to look him up online.

Also have an email from Matchmaker, "Hot new matches just for you." Oh, so does that mean no one else can see these profiles, that they’ve plucked them out and set them aside for me and only me? I think not. And they're obviously not too tailored for me since six of the 10 are 5'10” or under, some even topping out at 5'7”-5'8”. Anyway, nothing of interest there.

And I received an email from an Emoder, playrugby. Besides the fact that he dispenses with punctuation in both his email and his profile, he's 51 and lives in Nashville. Stop wasting my time. And he describes his body type as athletic/muscular, when his photo clearly shows jowls, a double chin, and a belly hanging over the waist of his pants like the bottom lip of a petulant child. Do these guys really think they're athletic/muscular? Or do they think they have to say that? Personally, an athletic body isn't a requirement for me (and, in fact, I generally discount hard body types), but I also want a guy to be honest in his profile, whether about age or body.
***
Just got a call from Barry. I initially thought it was a wrong number because of the name on Caller ID—don't know any Barry Epstein. Then the light bulb went off in my head, but I let the call go to voicemail—I wasn't prepared, and I'm heading out for the night soon. I had enough time to pull up his profile, though, and check his "faith"—no answer. Whatever. Jewish, Christian, makes no real difference to me. It might take a special Jew, though, to take my "your people killed my Lord" jokes. Those never get old.

Anyway, he sounded good, not too nervous or uncertain, a nice clear voice. Identified himself as "Barry from the computer," in case I have "other Barry friends.” Said he hoped to talk me soon and that I was out enjoying the beautiful weather. Sounded self-assured. I'll give him a call tomorrow some time.

Oct. 17, 2003: Shit or get off the pot

2005-03-23T09:51:00.000-06:00

By the light of day, predictably, Mike is of more interest to me. He was definitely my type physically, and I like that he cares about staying fit but not too much (as evidenced in the extreme by his pot and cigarette smoking). I'll try to hold off until tomorrow on the emailing. But I bet he won't be interested in me.

This morning I found a couple new matches from EH and an email from a Matchster, vienchere76. What’s classic is that I recognize his message:

“Dar soon-to-be woman of my dreams,
Ok, so I may be jumping to conclusions, but what can I say, I'm an optimist! I'm on my way to Vegas (yeah me!!) so I have to make this short (sorry!). I know that they don't let you reply for free here (&*$%), so here's my email address. todd8760@yahoo.com
I'd looove to hear from you, and that way I can send you a photo since they haven't posted mine yet. Check out my measly profile in the meantime & I'll drop a quarter in the slots for you!!”

This clown sent me the exact same message, except with a different email address and from a different username (sportbiker40s), a couple months ago. This time, the guy doesn't even have a profile posted. I guess he qualifies as one of the "players" you hear about. I would love to email him and let him know he's duplicating his efforts. But no.

I did, however, just succumb to the temptation to email Mike. But I only sent a link to a story in Yahoo about how Hollywood might make a movie based on the fan who interfered at the Cubs' playoff game. No biggie, right? I wrote that I wished I'd thought of the idea; nothing about last night or wanting to get together or hoping to hear from him. That’s me—a real model of restraint.

While I'm on a roll, I sent Tom an email asking why he stopped communicating with me:

"Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to ask a quick question.

I'm working on a book about online dating, and I want to address the situation where one person in a nascent online relationship just stops communicating, pretty much out of the blue, leaving the other person with no idea why. I figure there's got to be myriad reasons, and, as part of my research, I'm trying to collect some of those. So... why did you stop emailing me? No hard feelings, I promise, even if it wounds my ego. Thanks for your help and best of luck with your search."

Over to EH. One of the two new matches, Tim (34, Palatine), has already placed me on hold, for the reason "other." Chad closed me because he has “too much happening in my life at the moment." No big loss—he has two kids and lives in Schaumburg. I haven't received responses from five guys from whom I've requested communication, and John in Orland Park hasn't answered my three short-answer questions. This is pretty much what I expected, based on the kid thing, but I have to admit that it hurts anyway. It still feels like rejection, which is absurd. I mean, these people have never even emailed me, let alone met me, unlike Mike. From him, it will be rejection.

The other new EH match, Joseph (42, 5'11”, Chicago), lists one of his best life-skills as "raising/caring for children," so I'm not going to request communication. Well, maybe I will. He already has a daughter, and the rest of his profile is pretty good—he reads, likes chocolate and to travel, and plays sports.

Dave from MM checked back in. My last email to him experienced some trouble going through, so I don't know when he received it. He wrote about his shock over the turn the Cubs took this week, the abuse The Fan is getting, and his dire predictions for the Bears. He seems nice enough, and writes adequately, but we're not moving forward at all, as far as revealing info. And yet, I'd be up for meeting him. Why bother continuing these meaningless emails? Let's just get a drink and get on it with it or not.

I'm feeling the same way about Hank from Match. He's unclear on how to proceed, claiming to be new to online dating:

"Do we just keep trading e-mails, do we trade phone numbers, should we just both go running on Saturday morning, and see if we can pick the other one out on the path????"

I'd like to just say let's meet for a drink. I'm a little sick of the emailing process right now, I guess.
***
I did go ahead and email Hank, and he's replied. Turns out his name is really Barry, which is a bit of a letdown. OK—a bummer. That's a terrible name. He seems like a good candidate, though, and responded with some substance, so I've replied and included my phone number. For some reason, I'd like to get on with meeting him, rather than engaging in emailing. I feel the same way about Dave, although he doesn't necessarily impress me as a strong candidate.

I went over to MM to review Dave's profile and noticed some new mail had arrived. My first reaction was "Ugh—I don't really feel like dealing with this now." Then I realized it's a reply from one of the guys I contacted yesterday, MARK784. Pretty short response, only two lines. Of course, one of them is "you are very interesting and very sexy …" Flattering, yes, but not a lot to work with, in terms of responding to him. It's funny—I realized while shopping in MM yesterday that I'd seen his profile before but never opened it because the primary photo showed him posing by a car. He's changed the primary photo, to one of him piloting a sailboat. More importantly, he loves to travel, learn, and play sports. I'll get back to him later or tomorrow.

Dave's profile, while not stunning, has some good points. I think I will propose a drink. I just don't want to continue with these useless exchanges. Shit or get off the pot, as they say.

Well, what do you know? I just received an email from Ray. I took a chance and re-sent him an email from last week, using his Emode address instead of his personal address. He says he sent a couple emails to my address but never heard back. That's a good feeling. He continues to make me laugh. Maybe we can get something going here, now that my schedule is so much more open.

And I just received Tom's response:

"Hi Barb...Hey thanks for your inquiry. I guess that because it seems like you and I are so busy with other things that we just sort of lost track of each other. I really enjoy writing to you and hearing about what has been up. As far as doing research about what makes people lose their spark with each other with the online thing it can be a myriad of reasons. I said from the beginning that I was not really into sports and even though you displayed a sense of well-roundedness with other interests I guess I thought that you had alot going on with all of the Cubs games and other activities. I know that I just seemed to drop off the face of the earth but I guess in my heart I knew that maybe I would not be the type of guy to hold your interest. You really do seem great, I liked your photos and your love of life and so I also wish you good luck in finding someone special. And by no means am I saying that I would not like to still chat sometime or even meet up and grab a drink. I am also very interested in finding out what motivates people to do what they do (especially in courtship type rituals) and so feel free to call me or drop me a line anytime !!!

fondly, Tom"

I'm not sure what to make of this or how, and if, I should respond. I liked that he wasn't all that into sports, but I did wonder if it'd be a problem. I have lots of other interests, but the timing was poor, as far as demonstrating those. And he did inquire about Cubs things in his emails. I think he could hold my interest, but does his doubt about that ability indicate a lack of self-esteem, or maybe an unwillingness to exert much effort? I guess I just hate to blow this off completely after enjoying our emails. A drink couldn't hurt, right? I mean, why not? But maybe he's only being nice—he seems very sensitive and considerate like that. Maybe he's sugarcoating it. But he could have done that without the line about feeling free to call him or drop him a line.

To be honest, I wanted to test the whole "opposites attract" thing with him, and see if other factors can be more important than mere interests. And he did come off as such a nice guy (maybe too nice?), so I was interested in how that would affect me. I thought it could help me become a better person. That's assuming we made it past the audition phase, of course.

I'm still curious … Shouldn't I be taking this opportunity to meet different types of people? Maybe that's why I've never found anyone, because I don't look outside my so-called type. I think I'll mention that in my response. C'mon—was there really any doubt whether I'd respond?

"Hi, Tom--Thanks for your candid response; I expected nothing less!

I guess I understand your concerns, but I do think timing was bad, as far asme coming off as sports-obsessed. I was aware of that risk, but what can Isay--it was a very exciting, perhaps once-in-a-lifetime, stint for Cub fans.Regardless, I knew when I first emailed you, and as we continued emailing,that you weren't necessarily the kind of guy I traditionally seek. But Ithought it'd be a good thing to expand my horizons beyond my so-called’type.’ I mean, hey--where was that getting me? I'm still single, right?I've got people I can go to games with, but not many for more arts-orientedthings or just a nice dinner for two, at home or a restaurant. Plus, Ireally welcome the opportunity to learn new things and broaden my interests.Sometimes that requires new people.

For example, one of the best times I had this summer was at a class at acooking store where we sampled different wines and grilled foods and learnedhow to match them. I went with the guy I was dating at the time; otherwise, I probably wouldn't have been able to find someone to go to such a thing on a Friday night.

And, ultimately, you just seemed like a really nice guy. So, if you're stillup for it, a drink sometime might be worth a try! If you're too busy and/ornot interested, I can understand that, too. Either way, best of luck.

Barb"

While reviewing Tom's profile, I saw a response in my MM mailbox from OREGONGUY853, an anti-Bush guy who lives nearby and likes sexy tomboys. He said his schedule is crazy for 10 days, but he is interested, so I should please stay single until he gets a chance to write. I think I can arrange that. As I responded, I don't have any trips to Vegas planned.

Ray and I exchanged a few more emails this afternoon. On a scale of 10, how sad is it that I'd meet Ray, Tom, or Mike for a drink tonight? Even after turning down plans to meet some friends for drinks.

Barry responded again and is ripe for meeting sooner rather than later. He was funny about it, too: " … my mother may go nuts if I don't introduce her to a girlfriend sometime soon … Woo-hooo! I got my first girl's number on Match!" I don't know why I'm showing no hesitation about giving out my number. I guess I figure it can be found easily enough anyway, as evidenced by Greg's impertinence. Kidding.

Oct. 16: Me and the pot smoker

2005-03-22T08:09:00.000-06:00

So the Cubs' season is over. I feel disproportionately despondent today but am trying to keep things in perspective and remember that it's a game, entertainment, not life or death. After the way baseball has dominated my schedule the past month or so, it feels odd not to have any games to plan around, none on the horizon for five or six months. I do, however, have an audition tonight, and I'm glad to have something to look forward to—who'd have thought I'd look forward to one of those?

Mike sent an email this morning expressing the same sentiment: "at least i have a date tonight. :) :)" That's a very sweet thought, although I was a little taken aback by the word "date." I wasn't sure, to be honest, whether to expect just a drink or two, or dinner, but I guess now I can plan on dinner. I hope it goes well, but, with the skittishness of a recently burned Cubs fan combined with the grudging skepticism of someone who's had numerous disappointing online dating experiences, I'm trying to keep my expectations low. I wish I wasn't meeting Mike for the first time after such a poor night's sleep that followed such an emotional evening. Still, though, maybe out of the ashes of the past couple days can rise a beautiful thing … and maybe pigs will fly. Or the Cubs make it to the World Series.

I haven't heard from Tom in more than a week, so that appears to be over (er … stop me if I've said this before). It's so frustrating. His last email made it seem like he was still very interested in meeting:

"Hey Barb, Thank you for the invite !!! Regrettably this is also a crazy week for me and I already have something on Thursday. I guess we'll have to keep trying. I hope all goes well with the Cubs games as I am sure you are enjoying all of the excitement!!!
Take care, and hopefully we'll hook up soon !!!Tom"

I was encouraged by that, but then—nothing. Why? I didn't peg him as the type to just not reply to emails—he seemed too nice. I think I might have to email him one more time and ask what gives.

Nothing new in Yahoo. Emode sent me another Mutual Match email the other day, with 10 guys "who'd like to meet" me. Some of them were repeats from the last one—take a hint, fellas. Two new emails in MM. JIMMY080, however, posts no photo or text, and is only "looking for others to do things with." Nope. KIRBYK492 is 41-45 and lives in Elmhurst, where I grew up, which presents a bit of an emotional hurdle. He also doesn't post a photo, although he says he'd send one (he wrote that he doesn't post it because some of his employees use MM). His profile is okay—he sounds active and normal, and he wants to retire by 55 to someplace warm and then travel. That could be 10-14 years, assuming his posted age is accurate, which I could handle. I'll think about responding. His name is Gary, and he wrote that I have the prettiest smile on MM—how can I resist?

I'm really not seeing much action from Yahoo, MM, or Match—I should go shopping. Not much from Emode, either, but I haven't seen much I like there, anyway.

EH came up with three new matches. One of the previous matches, Tom, has requested communication, but he's 46 and lives in Warrenville. I'm willing to push my age limit up a bit, into the 40s, but 46 is too much. I don't want to be with someone a decade older than I am. Similar points of reference are important to me.

Having updated my initial EH profile yesterday to make clear my feelings on children, I thought I'd just take a passive approach now and let any so-called match contact me if he is okay with that. But I may as well request communication if I feel like it—that can prompt them to look at my profile so they'll know the deal from the start. I've requested communication via the five questions, including the number of kids, from David (33, 6'0”, Chicago) and Richard (33, 6'0”, Lombard). The other match has three kids; I'll reply if he requests communication, but I'm not initiating.

Despite my response in the last round of answers that I fear resentment in marriage because I don't want children, John of Orland Park, who indicated he wanted two kids, continued the process. Our must-haves/can't-stands are fairly compatible (of course they are—there's science behind this!). But now I need to pose three questions, and I'll again include one about kids.
***
I was perched on my exercise bike around 4:20pm when the phone rang. My first thought: "Mike's calling to cancel." I didn't even climb off the bike at first, figuring he could leave a message or send an email. My curiosity got the best of me, though, and I checked the Caller ID, which read "CMC Consulting," with a downtown Chicago area code. I remembered from calling him at work that his company name started with a C, and for some reason I think it's downtown. "Yep," I thought. "No 'date' tonight." Of course, I was wrong, but that gives a pretty good reading of my confidence level with online dating.

Not only was I wrong, but Mike sent me an email around 5pm. I had written earlier that I was glad to have something to look forward to tonight, "not to put too much pressure on you or anything." He replied that he'd prepare index cards with conversational starters. So, it looks like we're on. I'm going to try to think positive thoughts. But I tried that throughout the playoffs, and we know what happened with those.
***
It's a few minutes after 9pm, and I just returned from my audition with Mike. He was stationed at the bar at Charlie’s when I arrived (punctuality—always a plus). He went in for the hug. I started for the handshake, and an awkward embrace ensued. While awkward, it allowed me to render a good judgment of his physique—nice and solid, and he's a couple inches taller than me. He had a pint of beer sitting in front of him, with a tab going, which I liked, and was wearing jeans, belt, and a navy, button down-collar shirt. Good glasses. I thought he was cute, in great shape, and looked a lot like his best photos on Match.

I wore jeans, black belt and shoes, and a black knit shirt with kind of a plunging V-neck. Very shortly after I sat down, I noticed his eyes wandering downward from my face. Quite odd—the ole 34As don't usually attract much attention. Even more odd was that I noticed him looking there repeatedly. Was it the tan line that intrigued him so? The freckles? I don't know what to think.

We sat at the bar chatting our way through a couple drinks, more beer for him and wine for me. He touched my back a few times throughout the conversation, and I tried to lean in so I didn't seem untouchable. We talked at length about the Cubs, of course, and the Red Sox/Yankees playoffs came up, too, especially after that game came on the bar’s TVs. Talked about the marathon (he mentioned spotting his old girlfriend running on a treadmill in a window along the route), sports, my business Web site (he'd checked it out), work histories, hazing in high school and in, unfortunately, college (he was in a frat--ugh), his impending move. He's lived with the same guy for 10 years—a roommate at his age is not a good thing—who just bought a place in North Center, and they're both moving in at the end of the month. He did say the roommate travels a lot for work; he also described him as "the only person I could ever live with." But what about me, Mike?

At one point, I went to the restroom. When I came back, his stool was empty. My first thought? "Wonder if he bailed." He hadn't. I think I've read too many of those chick lit books.

Somehow, we started talking about jury duty. He told me how he'd been called for duty in a criminal trial not too long ago. Good news, though—he was excused because he'd been on trial in that very same courtroom himself.

Turns out old Mikey, the marathon runner who also mentioned toward the end of the evening that he's trying to kick smoking, has been busted, and convicted, for pot possession. A friend from Oregon FEDEX'd him some "weed," you see, and the police arrested him about 10 minutes after the delivery. (It reminded me of when a friend of my brother years ago asked to borrow my dad’s diabetic food scale, telling my mom he needed to weigh Fritos he was sending a friend in the Army so he could affix the correct postage—my mom didn’t fall for it, either.) Anyway, Mike said he had spent that night in jail, immediately launching me through a time and space continuum to my next blood donation, when the technician would ask if I’ve slept with anyone who'd spent 24 hours or more in jail. Not to get ahead of myself or anything—that'd be so unlike me (not).

I was taken aback by this nonchalant tale but pursued it in conversation, in a non-judgmental way, of course. Do you still talk to this guy? Is that a misdemeanor or felony? How did the police know? What was the sentence? It earned him two years probation, which included a requirement that he inform his parole officer whenever he left the state. You know, like on golf outings and the what-not. He said the PO told him not to bother calling, what with “the line of 20 black guys” behind him. He mentioned the year it happened, but I didn't catch whether it was '86 or '96. I have a creeping feeling it was '96. But why should it even matter to me? I've been known to smoke a little of the wacky tobacky now and then—all right, once every year or two. His openness about it makes it appear he tokes up regularly, though. On the other hand, they do say pot smoking hurts fertility, so he's got that going for him.

Suffice it to say, he seemed like more of a partier than I expected, and, frankly, more immature. I mean, 37 and living with a roommate? On the plus side, he doesn't come across as the want-to-be-a-father type. God, the tradeoffs.

He didn't offer to pay for dinner, not that he should, or to drive me home. Of course, I had told him I lived only a few blocks away, but still. Our goodbye included another awkward hug, although I tried to rub his back through his dark brown corduroy jacket to convey positive vibes, and I think he said something about calling or being in touch or something along those lines. He seemed like a nice guy, probably fun, possibly kind of nervous (maybe just a fast-talker, a bit like a hyperactive puppy), and we definitely had some laughs, but I'm not immediately drawn to him on a non-physical plane. Nonetheless, I'd probably go out with him again if he asked, which is always the big if.

How to follow up? I usually send a thank-you email after an audition, but he didn't pay, so what am I thanking him for? But I always fear that not sending an email afterward sends the signal I'm not interested. The thing is, when you've been emailing daily with someone before you meet him, I think it risks giving the impression you're not interested if you don't continue that pattern after meeting him. But does it seem that you're desperate or trying to rush things if you do email the next day? I think about this stuff too much.

Maybe I'll wait until the weekend and send an email then. We both talked about how we just wanted to do nothing this weekend (other than me going to see David Sedaris Saturday night—Mike knew who he was and said he's read the bit about the nudist colony—Sedaris appreciation is always positive); he said movie rental nights sounded good to him. So maybe wait ‘til Saturday, send the old "it was great to meet you," and ask what movies he's watched so far, how his packing is going, or some such nonsense. I'm so lame—I don't even feel particularly interested, other than physically, and yet I really want to hear from him tomorrow (although he said he has business appointments in the burbs all day). I think I tend to want things to happen too quickly—he could be interested in getting together again but not feel the need to email or phone for a few days or even a week. By then, I’ll long have written off the chance of anything more. My need for quick affirmation is downright embarrassing.

On a different note, I received a reply from hank8686 (39, 6'4”, with the headline "Better than that last guy you dated") from Match and an Icebreaker on Emode from LivingMyDreams, who says I have a great way of expressing myself and I caught his eye because of my great sense of humor. Uh, does that really come through in my profile? I do like his username, though. Doesn't it figure he's 5'6”? I can/should compromise some on height, but c'mon.

Oct. 15, 2003: Kids, kids, kids

2005-03-21T08:08:00.000-06:00

Let me start by saying that I'm feeling pretty damn down this morning, due to the Cubs' loss in Game 6 of the NLCS last night. I probably shouldn't even engage in any dating stuff—my mood could taint it.

Feeling the way I do today, the impersonal aspect of EH makes it the most appealing right now—easier to deal with its formulaic setup than with actual one-on-one communications. Let's see—I've moved to the next steps from John from Orland Park and Steve. No response from Chad, after I made it clear I don't want kids. Big surprise.

Following the trend, John has indicated he wants two kids. One of his five questions for me asks me to describe my biggest fear about marriage. There's an option for “other,” where you can write an individualized answer—I took that opportunity to send the message I don't want kids. Specifically, I wrote that I fear "resentment over kids—I don't think I want any."

I'm surprised to hear from Steve, who had point-blank asked the kid question, and to which I responded zero. Nonetheless, we've moved to exchanging must-haves and can't-stands. I think it's a flaw in the system that you must select 10 of each. You might list something that isn't truly a must-have or can't-stand simply to reach 10, and that item could end up being a deal-breaker, before you even begin real communication. Anyway, one of Steve's must-haves is someone who shares his desire to have or adopt children. I already answered that the ideal number of kids for me is zero, so why are we still doing this? Well, we're at the short-answer question point, so I'll ask if he could be with someone who doesn't want kids, and then move on, as I'm sure he won't want to continue. I have to pick two other questions from the list (or I could come up with my own), but I feel like those are just throw-aways—he won't want to continue after the first question, so no need to put much time into selecting the other two.

EH also came up with two more matches—Tom (46, 6'1”, Warrenville) and Rob (38, 6'0”). The most influential person in Rob’s life (aside from family members) is his speech therapist (he actually names him). I like that—it makes him seem open and secure. And he made the effort to answer most of the open-ended questions, which is more than many do. Just the kind of guy who'd want to be a father. I'll follow up, anyway.

What do you know? Steve has already responded, bringing us to stage 4. He's the first guy I made it this far with, so to speak, and I really didn't expect a reply after my short-answer question about kids. Of course, his answer was "I do want to start a family of my own." I find it odd that none of his short-answer questions of me refer to children. How much more clear can I make it that we have different goals as far as having a family? Is he just dense? Instead, he asks me about the most adventuresome thing I've done in the past year, to name my simple pleasure and describe how it makes me feel, and to describe my parent's relationship. I answered the questions but also took advantage of the open-ended nature of the answers to point out that I don't see kids in my future, so he probably won't want to pursue things any farther and wish him luck in his search. Too bad—he looks cute.

I have to say, it irritates me that guys who are 39 or older are so confident they can still have families. At the age when single, childless women start to resign themselves to the fact that they might not have kids and thus might not be able to "have it all," men entertain no such doubts. Must be nice. I kind of want to ask some of these guys why they've waited so long if they're so sure they want kids. Do they have any concerns about being in their 50s or older when their kids are teenagers? Maybe I'm overly sensitive to that situation, having been 12 when my widowed mom turned 50. I was always very aware of having one of the oldest parents in my class, but it's probably not so unusual now. Still, I've never been able to stop thinking it's somewhat selfish to have kids when you're older.
***
Steve responded. To access his response, I was required to click through some EH "rules of the road" for open communication from the service’s founder. It has some interesting points, such as:

· Some signs to consider: Watch out for someone who asks for money, uses vulgar language, asks inappropriate questions, or suggests sexual fantasies. Be careful of those who want to speed up the pace, tell you how to run your life, tell stories with inconsistencies, urge you to compromise your principles, blame others for their troubles or are always speaking romantically.
· We can't stress enough how important it is for you to take your time getting to know your match. Be aware that on-line communication tends to accelerate one's sense of comfort and intimacy.
· It can't be stressed enough that the qualities that determine relationship happiness are not always those we see first. Appearance can seem important and the need for chemistry is critical, but what impacts chemistry in the long run comes from more important qualities than appearance.

Anyway, Steve said he didn't know where a dating relationship would lead us, as he does want kids. He said he's always up for meeting new people and having great times, and he might have some groups of friends I'd be interested in meeting. I thanked him for responding but explained that I have enough platonic male friends and am looking for more right now, although I'm finding the kid issue to be quite a hurdle. I started to share my observation about how men at his age don't entertain any doubts of still being able to have kids but decided against it. I don't want to come off as bitter or a man-hater. Instead, I wrote:

"I know several women in our age range who are coming to terms with the fact that they might not end up having kids now but can still be happy, and thought [hoped?] I might find some men who feel the same way. I guess I'm quite the anomaly!"

And then my usual best wishes in his search, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Mike and I exchanged some emails today, commiserating on the Cubs' loss and chatting a bit about the now-infamous fan who interfered with a foul ball. I should enjoy this easy back-and-forth while I can. After I meet him tomorrow, it may very well taper off or just cease, as I've experienced in the past.
***
It occurred to me that I can save myself and prospective EH matches a lot of time and energy by entering the no-kid thing into my initial profile. So, where it asks for additional information I'd like my matches to know about me, I entered:

"I think it's only fair to let prospective matches know at the outset that I probably will not want to have children. I don't rule it out completely because I've learned not to say ‘never,’ but it's not something I've ever wanted. I think it's possible to have a full and happy life without being a parent, and I'm hoping there are men out there who feel the same way. Maybe you're one of them ..."

I'm hoping to sound happy and optimistic, and maybe even a little flirty with the closing line. (Can you ask for much stronger evidence of my need for remedial flirting lessons, that I think that line might be flirty?) I'm probably sabotaging myself by doing this, but it's the right thing to do.

Oct. 14, 2003: We have contact

2005-03-18T18:55:00.000-06:00

Just got off the phone with Mike. It went pretty well, but he struck me as kind of nervous, like an amateur comedian in his first talent show. His profile, I think, says he talks fast, and he certainly lived up to that. These first phone calls can be so awkward, though, and he was at work, which would compound it. We ran into a fair amount of the talking-at-the-same-time conundrum, followed by some uncomfortable laughter. Talked about how I was shot down for donating blood today because of my week-long cold, his lingering soreness from the marathon, where we each live, how he's moving at the end of the month. Finally I got down to things, and we set a time and place for a "meeting"—Thursday, 6:30pm, at Charlie's Ale House. He asked right off the bat if there was a good place in my neighborhood, which is considerate, so that's a good sign.

Several EH emails were waiting this morning, with three new matches and additional communication from two of the three I requested communication from yesterday. The thing is, the initial information EH gives you is pretty sketchy—age, location, height, job, some personality traits, and some open-ended questions that might not be answered. Photos aren't common at this stage, either. You have very little information that you can seize on and get excited about, that makes you want to keep going, other than the service's assurance that you're compatible with the guy.

So, Chad and Steve answered my five questions. They both want two kids. Steve asked about how many kids I'd find ideal in his five questions to me, and I answered zero; I haven't heard back. Chad (37, 6'1”, Schaumburg) didn't ask, and I didn't have any way of conveying that, so he and I have moved on to the next stage—must-haves and can't-stands. Having reviewed those, I then had to pose three short-answer questions, either from a list or devised by me. I chose two from the list and used the third to ask if he'd consider a partner who didn't want kids. That should end that.

Of the three new matches, I've requested communication from Bill (33, 6'2”, Wheaton) and John (34, 6'2”, Orland Park). Apparently, I'm willing to make concessions on location in exchange for youth.

In Yahoo, a new message arrived from tallmensa. Promising username, but he's 47 and lives in Altamont, a town I don’t know. And he takes it upon himself to advise me not to skip having kids. Talk about hitting a raw nerve.

One Icebreaker in Yahoo, from countryboywithhorses, whose headline says he's seeking a country girl. Do I really strike you as a country girl, you 44-year-old from Appleton, Wisconsin?

No action in MM, and I haven't received any emails from Match in quite a while, either. I suppose I should go shopping for prospects, but I don't have the energy right now. I did receive an email from Dave from MM today. Just some Cubs stuff. I'll answer later sometime—he took three days to reply to my previous email, so no hurry.