12 Matches of Christmas!

Oh, OKCupid.  Right when internet dating was making me want to kill myself, you go do something like this and TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF!  That's right, 12 Matches of Christmas.  And so far, they have been people I've never "viewed" before, which is refreshing.  So, the first guy (pictured here) seemed like a huge douchey tool so I didn't message him, but I messaged the next two!  Just because OKCupid told me to.
I'm sure none of these yuletide charmers will reply, but hey, a girl's gotta try, especially when, daily, one man is laid out on a silver platter for her!

Is it too much to ask . . .

Camping

. . . for a dude who wants to watch Misfits on Monday nights (or the first free night following Monday) wants to go see every comedy, action or action-comedy movie with me, along with approximately 1 indie movie a month for which we will have to travel to Kendall, wants to go see stand up once a month, financial circumstances permitting, wants to go camping two times per year between June and October, likes eating baked goods and a wide variety of cuisines, has fewer than 10 things on the list of "normal" foods he refuses to eat (I don't consider sweetbreads "normal"), enjoys wearing hand knitted hats, will attend (approximately) quarterly family engagements, will drive me to and pick me up from the airport (approximately 2x annually), wants to spend at least several days or evenings per week with me, likes my cat, will laugh at my jokes and tell me my blog is funny?

Camping, with family!

Baking!

Knitted Hat and family!

Family!

Baked goods for family!

Family and camping!

Family gathering!

Baked goods!

Cat!

Two kitty pics because she's so cute!

I guess so.  Yet I wait.

All About: Giant McBunnyman

Apparently a very bad drawing of GMcB
kissing his bunny (that's not a euphemism)

Giant McBunnyman (GMcB) and I have been occasionally communicating over the past several weeks and it would appear we are going out tomorrow.  He is giantly tall and has a bunny, so obviously, I am already in love with him.

However, my love is already waning due to his inconsistent communication.  You may have heard I once had douche-bag boyfriend with whom I stayed far too long.  One of the intolerable traits I tolerated was his intermittent desire to spend time with me, as evidenced by the obnoxiously long time spans that would pass with nary a word from the aforementioned douche (I was stupid for staying with him and this was only one of a thousand issues we had, but that is neither here nor there).

So, the point is, I hate and will no longer tolerate, being ignored.  Now understand, I do not demand that someone I have not yet met talk to me every day.  In fact, I do not enjoy when people I consider to be very close friends talk to me every day.  But rather, I appreciate when people show up for dates, reply to texts/emails/voicemails, and otherwise acknowledge my existence even when it isn't that one day per month when that persons desire to get laid outweighs their selfish laziness (woah, my involuntary swallowing reflex doesn't work, but my ranting reflex sure is healthy)

Dear friends, I am simply noting, for the record, the pinkish-hued flag (which could become glaringly red at a moment's notice) of intermittent communication.  I also must highlight his self-proclaimed occasional hermit tendencies.  This could very easily mean that he simply enjoys a time out from social situations from time to time, but it could also mean he likes to ignore everyone he knows for weeks at a time when he feels particularly self-pitying and douchey.

I really do not intend to start off on a negative foot with this guy.  But, there are a few potential behaviors that unfortunately mimic some of the worst traits of my scumbag ex and I am merely trying to be cognizant of these facts.  Add to that my tendency to push away people I like before they can reject me, and, well, I don't know.  When did this turn in to a self-pitying self-analysis blog?  Gross.

Chances are excellent that all of these concerns will be rendered moot once I actually go on a date with GMcB and he realizes that a. I haven't mastered the most basic life-sustaining skills that most toddlers can handle with ease and b. two beers pretty much makes me talk like I write this blog - obnoxiously and without end.

Ugh, I can't believe I just word-vomited all over this previously succinctly eloquent blog.

Gamemaster: Near-Death Experience Edition

Are you aware of the hypothesis that there are remnants of our cave-man genes that result in our attraction to traits exhibiting evolutionary advantages?  I.e., a dude being attracted to ladies with big hips, so they can have lots of babies so hopefully one or two of them will live into adulthood and carry on his genes?  I think I failed to exhibit a very important trait that would suggest my Darwinian chances of survival: the ability to chew and swallow ones food and live through the experience.  I'm sure cave-ladies used to really like cave-gents who could wrestle a bear and then eat it - something that required great strength and bravery, and could nourish a family.  Well, Gamemaster, you've now witnessed me wrestle a piece of macaroni and cheese with my esophagus, and barely win, a feat which requires only involuntary organ reflexes.  Yikes.

It is really embarassing to be choking on a very tiny speck of food: not because one is worried about their imminent death, but rather, because ones body is violently attempting to expel a foreign object and one has basically no control over this.  Tears stream, face turns red; holding up a napkin can only slightly mask the absurd facial contortions and bodily convulsions resulting from my body's rejection of a speck of semolina.  I don't even care what Gamemaster thinks of me, I wasn't particularly taken with him.  Yet, I wanted the booth to open up and swallow me whole until I was over my choking episode.  It didn't help that the people sitting very close to our right could easily tell we were on a first date and were worried about my pending death by asphyxiation - I would have stared too, fellow diners, I would  have stared too.

First "Date": Chuckles Edition

So, I don't know how many people saw it, but my post last night, while accurate, was mean.  SO here is a less mean version.  I don't think I can say too much about the date other than it was mercifully short.  And he DEFINITELY doesn't look like Mark Duplass.  Anything else would be too mean.  The point of this blog is to have some fun and encourage me to say yes and do things I wouldn't normally do, not ridicule and judge people who don't deserve it.

But, the last thing I want to do is deprive my friends of absurd pictures of me and my cat, so I will just have to let these photos speak for my night.

You will notice that, in this photo, Layla is judging the size
of my glass of wine

Monday night is tapas with Gamemaster.  I said some unkind things about him, as well, but he's actually been quite charming and flirtatious in his correspondence, and I've been my usual idiotic self.  Again, not expecting lasting love, but, he could take a shit on the dinner table and it would still be an improvement over last night.

All About: Chuckles

Marky Duplass

I had a sneaking suspicion that my first inclination about Chuckles was wrong, as that inclination would suggest that he was relatively normal and semi-attractive.  If I drank a bottle of wine and took off my glasses he may slightly resemble Mark Duplass.  Hopefully only in looks.  I do not enjoy the smarmy, self-important characters he often portrays in films (see "Safety Not Guaranteed" for an example of a GOOD character and performance from Mr. Duplass)

A bloated looking Chuckle

Cut to: 5 minutes, 3 messages and 3 "LOLs" later; aaaannndd, scene.  The dude is a bit odd: as a 34 year old, his use of "lol" at the end of every non-punctuated sentence comes off very strange indeed.  But, hey, some people don't come off well in writing, and many people come off great in writing and terrible in life.

Otherwise, I know very little about Chuck, but I think, based on googling, he is a video game designer or something and he lives and works in a non-T-accessible western burb.  We are going out in his hood which means I will be driving, which means I will not be getting toasted on 2 glasses of wine and acting a fool.  Go Lauren!

Speaking of wine, work has been stressing me out.  It is a good gosh-derned thing that I have in incredibly non-demanding job.  It has been mildly demanding and stressful for approximately 3 weeks and I can barely deal with it.  Not that I advocate solving ones problems with alcohol, but, actually I do recommend that.*  Here's me tonight: 

*Of course, drink responsibly people.  Drinking and blogging is totally legal and safe.  

Observation

I just logged into my OKCupid account and perused my "visitors" (aka, people who viewed my profile).  These 3 charmers were near the top, all in a row:

As a person with eyes, dear reader, can you make any observations about this scene? 

All About: Ms. Popular!

That's me.  I'm super popular.  Of the tens-of-thousands of men on internet dating sites in the greater Boston area, 3 want to go out with me.  Also, I got a sweet new haircut today, some snazzy new date clothes on Black Friday, and its looking like I don't have to work this weekend.  This girl is flyin' high.

Here are the lucky lads in my virtual, soon to be real, life:

1. Sherlock
2. Gamemaster
3. Chuckles: details to follow

My super fly haircut. 

I had a last-minute first date with Sherlock this past weekend.  Just as I was beginning to think that he was  blowing me off despite an impassioned speech about insincere end-of-date-promises-of-future-interaction, he messaged me today and asked questions which impressively demonstrated his listening and memory skills.  Who knew he retained at least some of my drunken ramblings?  While there was no invitation for a second date, his message clearly necessitates a response and further conversation.  If I were him, my next move would be asking what my weekend plans were and, given some availability, an invitation for a tasty meal.  But, I am not him, thankfully.  I don't know how I'd feel about dating myself.


Gamemaster asked me out over a week ago, but his schedule was so jam-packed with table-top gaming and LARPing (I had to think for a minute to remember that acronym) that we were unable to meet.  That's Live Action Role Playing for you jocks and hipsters (I had to Google to remember what it actually stood for.  I wonder if I'm a jock or a hipster?).  Anyway, we are now getting tapas in his neighborhood Monday after work.  I'm trying to decide if I should bring my 12 sided die or my [other super geeky thing].

All About: Sherlock, Post-First-Date Edition

I am doing this in reverse order based on the very hectic several days I've had.  Good sign #1 about Sherlock: he was game for a last minute scramble date.  Sherlock messaged me Friday afternoon, I replied Friday night, we were on a date Saturday night.  I like that kind of turn-around!  It was cool because I didn't have a lot of lead-up time to think about whether or not I would like this guy, whether he would like me, whether or not we had anything in common, yadda, yadda, yadda (I mentioned the bisque).

My least accurate portrait yet.

So, Sherlock.  He is a nice, friendly guy who is actually the height he indicates on his profile (pretty much the same as me - 5'11").  He showed up for our date right on time, while my dumb ass was late because the stupid Red Line wasn't running between Alewife and Harvard.  Anyway, he was patiently waiting for me, I handed him his ticket and we headed for the bar.  He insisted on paying for drinks since I paid for the tickets.  The Paradise is a weird venue for comedy - they put a bunch of folding chairs and then it was standing room.  So we awkwardly stood sort of behind some shorter people on dates and enjoyed the show.  At least once I had to lean over to Locky and tell him, I'm not standing far away from you because I dislike you or you smell, but rather this position affords a better view of the onstage funny people.  I proceeded to enjoy the very funny comedians (even the local opener and the kinda-local other opener) and drank 3 beers.  In this regard, I have been noticing a trend: I am a lightweight who talks a LOT when 3 beers deep.  Lockster enjoyed the show as well, as evidenced by the flailing laughter.  He also told me I wasn't stupid drunk talking his ear off.  He may have been lying.

Immediate First Date! Thanksgiving Weekend Edition!

It is 11:30 a.m. on the Saturday following Thanksgiving and I am sitting in my mom's kitchen doing work (well, and blogging).  I will also be doing work all day tomorrow, but from the comfort of my lovely cube at my office.  However, in the intervening evening, I will be (hopefully) on an OKC date with Sherlock. 

Sherlock messaged me yesterday (Black Friday!) evening indicating that he very much enjoys stand up and would like to accompany me to witness the same sometime.  It just so happens that I was preemptively stood up by a bastard-ex-not-to-be-named yesterday and had an extra ticket to a stand up show tonight (Pete Holmes!  Woohoo!).  So, I took a shot in the dark and asked Sherlock if he wanted to join me, knowing full well it's a holiday weekend and people are out of town, or people just tend to have Saturday evening plans, etc.  Well damned if I didn't get lucky!  Sherlock is occupied during the day with family plans but is game to do his very best to get downtown by 8 pm to accompany me!  He very politely informed me that there is a possiblity that he won't be able to make it but that he would a. make every effort to be there, and b. let me know as early as possible if it wasn't going to work.  We have exchanged numbers and my fingers are crossed that he will be able to make it! 

I will have to tell you more about Sherlock another time, hopefully after we've already met!  But for now I'm just stoked I don't have to waste this extra ticket because of the aforementioned bastard ex.  Back to work for me.  But, yay! 

By the way, I fully recognize the overabundance of exclamation points in this post.  I've eaten a lot of pie and fudge in the past few days and am brimming with energy and enthusiasm. 

All About: the Competition

I check out girls on OKCupid.  That particular site has an interesting feature; whilst viewing a person's profile, the site identifies "similar users."  One day while staring adoringly at my own profile, I noticed the thumbnails of some young lassies that OKCupid thinks are like me.  These days, apparently one cannot see similar users when signed in as oneself.  So I signed in using my old account (not sure why, but I started a new one after my last relationship) and checked my self right out.

Things I noticed:

1. The OKC-identified-similar-to-me users are mostly younger than me, between 26 and 28.  I take this to mean I am either super youthful and fun or super immature.
2. OKC says most of my sisters-in-similarity are more adventurous than me.  This is based on the many questions users can answer and on which said users are judged.  This seems to contradict the fact that I'm super youthful and fun.  Things are coming up immature . . .
3. None of them reply as selectively as I apparently do.  OKC labels all users according to the frequency with which they reply to messages.  These labels are color coded, green for frequent replies, yellow for medium, red for selective.  I assumed I was green or yellow.  I mean, jeez, I'm practically a scientist and obligated to reply.  Well, I am RED and labeled as replying VERY SELECTIVELY.  Admitedly, I don't suspect that tons of dudes are scoping out my profile, about to send me a super sexy message, but then are thwarted by that red VERY SELECTIVE notification.  However, this could, potentially, maybe happen.  Time to start replying to the nutters!  This girl has got to go GREEN, and NOT by recycling.  Recycling is for suckers.*

I should also note that not many other OKC users of the feminine persuasion employ this tactic.  OKC tells you when a user views your profile, so I would see if a lady checked me out.  They don't.  Maybe this is why I'm a famous blogger now and all those other users aren't.  

Work just got capital-M-Mental, but I have a few more suitors as of yesterday so there will be dates (and therefore posts) aplenty.  

* Just joshin'!  I recycle.  Profusely. 

All About: Gamemaster

This fine lookin' fella asked me out:

Have you ever heard a young lady say she likes nerdy guys?  When she says that she means a hipster-nerd who likes the Lord of the Rings trilogy but also enjoys football and the ability to lift over 35 lbs.  Gamemaster may not fit that description.  I believe he meets the truest, original description of nerd, ala Revenge of the Nerds.  Based on the few nerderific photos he posted I gather he could easily have been cast in either of those fine cinematic works.  And that, my friends, is just based on the photos.

I read on into his profile to find his nerd-alert riddled "about me" section:

I've Done Something Rash

This song has been in my head all day: Another Saturday Night.

I think this photo was also used for an ED
medication ad in 1993

I have joined eHarmony.  That shit is expensive!  So i signed up for 3 months and I'm going to find my future husband, as all the commercials promise!  No, but really, how can I have a serious, objective online-dating blog without joining one of the biggest (or at least most advertised) secular dating sights out there?

I have a confession as to why I am so anti-eHarmony.  When I was in law school my pal and I signed me up for eHarmony after seeing an absurd advertisement for a personality quiz - the site administers an incredibly long and detailed questionnaire on your personality, propensities and desires in a match.  We drunkenly went through this for at least half an hour - my friend chiming in when she thought I was perhaps being a teensy bit  untrue to myself.  A bottle of wine and a bit of self-discovery later, eHarmony REJECTED ME.  I was told that I was basically too sardonic and mean to be on happy-go-lucky match-maker eHarmony.  Essentially eHarmony was meant for happy, content sheep who wanted to get married (to a member of the opposite sex) immediately.  If you suffered from depression or a sense of humor, you did not qualify.  Do you recall that Chemistry.com (or some other site) based an entire TV ad campaign on people being rejected from eHarmony?  Yah, I could have totally starred in one of those commercials.  If I were far more attractive.  And an actor.  And if the actual people from those ads were actually rejected from eHarmony in real life.

Anyway, this will be it for awhile.  I will keep my mind open about other sites, but if I join ChristianMingle I'm definitely joining JDate at the same time.

I WILL DATE FOR YOU INTERNET!  EVEN IF IT COSTS ME HUNDREDS (well, up to maybe, $200) OF DOLLARS !

All About Age

Will my next suitor more
resemble Wilford Brimley,
or . . .

Prior to my date with Oliver, my sister asked, "why would you go out with someone that old?"*   Oliver is 40.  I am 29.  However, this doesn't phase me as I've largely dated older dudes, several approximately 10 years my senior, who seemed like a reasonable, relatable age.  I think there is much more than numerical age.

Here are the categories at play, in my experience:
Numerical age (current year - birth year);
Physical age (how old one appears); and
Mental age (how old one behaves).
I have gone out with, and had male friends who are 10+ years older than me, numerically speaking, that I found very fun and attractive.  They have likely been closer to my age with respect to mental age, and perhaps physical age.  I've also gone out with and known men close to my age who are at a very different life stages than me and we had nothing in common.  Again, the mental and, perhaps physical, ages didn't match up.  I admittedly have limited experience with younger fellas, but maybe this experiment will change that . . .

. . . this Peter-Pan looking
child who was meant to be
Zac Efron?

Anyway, I can imagine a future where I go out with and pine for a 40 year old gent who is fun, charming and at a similar place in life to me.  I realized my First Date Oliver post could suggest that I don't like 40 year old men, or "old" men or whatever designation you could make based on the year a person was born.  In reality, I found he seemed much more mature than I am, at a totally different place in his life, and therefore, I was largely incapable of relating to him.

Sooo, my point is, I don't discriminate based on numerical age (beyond those mandated by statute).



*My sister's husband is 6 years younger than her, so she is clearly biased.

First (and ONLY) Date: Oliver Edition

I Heart Pete Holmes

Oh internet.  A comic I dearly heart has oft repeated a mantra by which he lives (I paraphrase): if something in life is going horribly wrong, and making life miserable just pretend your life is a TV show and think to yourself, this would make a really good episode.  (Pete's website, Pete's Podcast)

Whilst I was sitting at a bar attempting to enjoy my beer with a non-enjoyable date I thought about ol' Petey and this here lil' blog and that this date would make a great post.  So, internet, please enjoy this post, which I am using as therapy/debriefing, about a very absurdly stupid date.

Things which I, an internet dater, believe require disclosure prior to a first date:
1. One or more tween children (well, any children, really);
2. Divorce;
3. The fact that one actually lives and works 100 miles away from you, but sorta lives in the vicinity, sometimes; and,
4. The fact that one wears old-man cologne.

Things I did before this date:
1. Worried that Oliver wouldn't like me;
2. Tried on several outfits before finding the perfect combination of a. cute, b. casual and c. does not make me look super fat;
3. Last minute ran to the ATM after recalling that the date location accepted cash only; and,
4. Worried more that Oliver wouldn't like me.

More lists after the jump

All About This Boring Blog

So, my very first post included a disclaimer that this whole endeavor may become boring if I find myself sans suitors.  I'm already nervous that is occurring.  I am going out with Oliver this Tuesday and have no other charmers knocking down my virtual door.   Even the kind but unappealing Sheepster lost interest and failed to request the pleasure of my company for a second date (which I didn't actually want, but still).  I'm beginning to think I need to take matters into my own keyboard.

Another issue that I'm beginning to think about, as this blog is obviously hilarious, heartwarming and overall amazing, is becoming famous.  Ok, I am not even remotely concerned about that issue, but I am slightly concerned that potential mates will Google me and find my marvelous blog.  Recall the charming but mildly insulting sharpie drawings and general self-importance of this whole endeavor.  I'm not sure how I would feel if I was "discovered" but I suppose it would be amusing, if nothing else.

Happy Veteran's Day!

All about Oliver

Oliver's only profile pic

I asked Oliver out. However, Oliver initiated contact. Ages ago. His initial message was a single worded Dr. Who reference. I checked out his profile and was a bit skeeved to discover he had one headless photo and claimed his work prevented him posting his face.  For the uninitiated, that usually means married.

For some reason I replied anyway, asking why the secrecy?  He replied and said that he works in higher ed and has run into enough students online dating that he was getting skeeved out himself.  Ok, that sounded reasonable enough to me.  I decided to see where this went.

We then carried on a Twitter-esque back and forth for well over a week. Our short messages were devoid of meaningful discussion as we were both trying to come off witty and wry. This worked for me.  He sent me a photo of himself (perfect facsimile below) and didn't look like a serial killer.  Anyway, I grew impatient and late last night asked Oliver if he wanted to go out sometime. I then proceeded to fall asleep watching British TV on my computer.
I woke up this morning feeling a bit recovered from my cold, turned to my computer and checked my email and the weather. Oliver had replied in his usual snarky and adorable manner accepting my invitation. Yay.
Nope, hold that yay.

That Guy

For those of you not lucky enough to be a member of the online dating world, you may be interested to learn that sometimes undesirable fellows contact you.  Here is a recap of the strange and/or unexpected men that messaged me this week:

That Guy: Lets just say one of his photos was a headless, self taken, shirtless body shot.  See the super accurate sharpie depiction of this gentleman for evidence of a. his douchebaggery and b. my wretched artistic skills.

That Indian Guy:  I have no qualms whatever about dating an Indian guy, or pretty much any other nationality or race.  But this guy lives IN INDIA and in interested in a long distance relationship.  Soooo, no thanks.

That Married Guy: Ok, is that description sufficient to know why this is an undesirable gent?  No?  Ok, he also very clearly explained an interest in sleeping with me exactly once in order to check "red head" off his to-do list.

So all you single ladies just need to get online and you could receive these special messages too!

Sad face: Mr. A Edition

Me, pouting

Mr. A cancelled on me.  He sent me a very odd message which I have decided to share in its entirety.  I'm bummed.  I was looking forward to some comedy this Friday.

Mr. A's message:

Hey, the sincerest of apologies for taking so long to get back to you. The past week has been a complete roller coaster ride and my life has taken some unexpected twists and turns. Unfortunately, I don't think this Friday is do-able for me. Please don't take offense, because you seem like a hella cool person, and I'd absolutely like to meet up and possibly go to a comedy show or whatever sometime in the near future. 

Really, really sorry. I'll gladly elaborate, if you want. But, to put it succinctly, I never would have imagined I'd be where I'm at now a week ago. 

How bizarre and cryptic is that?!?  I replied and simply said that I hope everything is alright.  Bah.

First Date: Sheepster Edition

Me, cat, wine, sweatpants

Things I did after my date with Sheepster:
Bought a bottle of wine
Put on sweatpants
Drank two glasses of wine
Hung out with my cat
Watched Bob's Burgers
Worried about the presidential election

Things I did NOT do after my date with Sheepster:
Call/text/email Sheepster
Think about Sheepster
Desire a second date with Sheepster

He is a very nice fellow but I'm not feeling it.  I'm not attracted to him and was not exactly enraptured by the conversation   He is a very nice gentleman who refused to let me chip in for the drinks and offered to walk me home (I declined).  As we were heading our separate ways, he asked if we could do it again some time and I'm pretty sure I said ok.  I had a few beers in me and am bad at rejecting people, what can I say.

Anyway, bring on Mr. A!

PS: I am home sick from work and not blogging while on the clock.  Also, it's snowing. Bah.

About to go out: Sheepster Edition

So after voting, taking some sudafed (I am not getting sick, I am not getting sick) and taking about 50 pictures of myself before I got a satisfactory one, I'm about to go out with Sheepster.  I'm about to bundle up and then go out with Sheepster, actually.  It's approximately 35 degrees out and I am sad to report tonight will be this season's maiden donning of my super sexy down coat.  I have about a mile to walk so . . . 

Wish me luck!  I will report back tomorrow!

Post-date 3 drink update: we're not getting married.  I bought a bottle of wine on the way home, not out of sadness or anything but also not out of celebration.  Update tomorrow.

All About Sheepster

Sheepster asked me out. He will be my first Match.com date. Match.com has some weird hierarchical pricing schemes whereby, if you pay a higher subscription fee you get a few more features. The level at which Sheepster subscribes apparently allows him to send one VIP email a week, which he boldly sent to this gal. What the hell is a VIP email, you ask? Why, I had that same query.

All I can surmise is that a VIP email is a somewhat confusing way to express extra-special interest in precisely one lucky lady or fellow per week. So, I gather I should feel a little special, but not that special; I am potentially in the company of 51 other lucky ladies this year.  Also note that, had Sheepster not highlighted the fact, that I should be honored by his highly priced email (his tongue firmly in cheek, thankfully) I would have had no idea VIP emails existed.

Meet Sheepster after the jump.

All About Mr. A

Mr. A asked me out.  I think.  If you check out my last post you can see that my OKCupid profile contains a plea for folks to message me if they are interested in accompanying me to comedy shows, even if they find me entirely unappealing in a romantic way.  Mr. A asked me to go see comedy and failed to indicate his level of attraction based on my profile and photos, so it is entirely possible that he is so superficial as to be interested only in my body, literally, sitting or standing next to him at a comedy show.

Anyway, this is Mr. A:

I fully admit that this is merely an incredibly useless sketch/caraciture of Mr. A., but it would be both unfair and unkind to post the much more flattering and pleasant personal photos he chose to post on OKCupid.  But I also believe it would be silly and less interesting to provide no physical representation of my potential suitor, even if said representation is about descriptive as the following narrative: from the three photos Mr. A posted, he appears to be a somewhat full figured fellow with freckles, dark hair and a beard, who is fond of baseball caps and hoodies.

While there are many categories, 11 to be exact, in which OKCupid users may provide information, Mr. A chose only to include two; the most generic "My Self Summary" and the potentially more specific and enlightening "I'm Looking For."  Mr. A chose to "rattle off" a few random facts about himself and these facts suggest to me that he has a sense of humor, appreciates pop culture and media and survives without pledging his allegiance to any specific deity.  These are all attributes that I appreciate and have in common with Mr. A.

Based on my multiple comedy/comedian profile references Mr. A messaged me and initiated a conversation about the Boston comedy scene and my interests with respect to comedians and podcasts. Good move, sir.  I replied but was soon convinced that I had somehow upset or dissapointed my fellow comedy lover as I found my reply unanswered for a week.

More after the jump.

All about OKCupid

So, as my original post stated, I'm a member of three dating sites currently; OkCupid, Match.com and PlentyofFish.  This post is all about OKCupid which is a free dating website that has a lovely interface.

This is a screenshot of OKCupid's home screen.  As you can see, there are quick links to my profile, profiles I "might like" and profiles I recently visited.  Matches on OKCupid are based on questions you answer at your leisure.  I really enjoy the questions on OKCupid - some are user generated while others were crafted by the creators.  Each multiple choice question has two to four options, but also gives the user the option of filling in desirable answer and the importance of said question.

This question, for example, is somewhat important to me and I answered it publicly because I'm willing to share my philosophy on dental hygiene with any curious OKCupid user.   I am also pretty confident that I would like a boyfriend who shares my views on that matter.  You can also answer privately or skip any question you prefer.  You can also view the responses of other OKCupid users.

After the jump, my profile

Introducing . . . ME!

I'm a fun-loving 29 year old single gal living in the city trying to find my way!

Ok, not really.  I'm a cynical 29 year old single gal living city-adjacent and trying to be less bored and lonely.  So far, my internet dating experiences have been amusing; ranging from disenchanting, to very titillating, and a few in between.  Turns out us lucky single ladies get some pretty intriguing fellows pursuing us and I thought people might be interested in reading about my adventures . . .

In the near future I will be giving an exciting look into my amazingly witty and charming internet dating profiles and then proceed to chronicle my attempts to go on a date with every (non-serial killer appearing) dude who messages me and asks me out.  This gallant effort may be occasionally thwarted my lack of funds or suitors, but I swear and affirm my allegiance to this most noble goal.

Wish me luck!  Or not, bad luck may make for more interesting reading . . .