Bluebird Rising

"You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better." -Anne Lamott

The Undateables November 23, 2010

Well I just split the cork of my Riesling in half with the bottle opener and had to Macgyver a somewhat fancy contraption (mainly relying on the flimsy strength of a butter knife) to finally get it open, so if I seem a bit disheveled, this should explain why. I don’t enjoy things getting in the way of me and my wine. I am also trying to ignore my cat wheezing out a hair ball in the other room. (True story)

I only mention this because of my last post. Whatever part of my personality it was that got marinated in devil juice has spoiled. I have put on my big girl underpants, and am embracing the tiresome work of becoming more honest in day-to-day interactions. As a result, I am again feeling witty and spunky and personable, hence the time for a new post. I only hope that you find that my humor, interpretations of circumstances, and general dislike of all people stupid has returned to a healthy level as well.

So lets dive right in, Bluebirds. We will be discussing the absolute evil world of internet dating, which I embarked on as a favor to those of you who send me private messages instead of public ones. You know who you are. *Clears throat. If necessary, please refresh yourself on that post here. Now, I’m not going to play all innocent. There have been a few (okay–3) that I actually am finding common ground with. These 3 are exempt from this discussion, should they ever be unlucky enough to learn that I have a blog, and to realize that I will talk about pretty much everything. HBO style. No limits. Maybe even them, down the road. Because try as I might, I really have no filter between my head and my little happily typing fingers.

Now, a new development needs to be addressed for your comprehensive understanding. Originally, I was going to try to compare dating sites as one of my experiments. Two simple words can now describe how I feel about that idea. Fuck no. I simply can’t keep up with the information overload. I LOVE all of you that take the time to send my your questions about this topic, but this dating endeavor was to be straight gathering and reporting, not my new full-time job. But hey, if anyone is that curious, or my friends in marketing are having a business revelation, I’ll entertain some offers. Anyways, I went with the one that was the easiest for me to use. For me, that was eHarmony. Which I will now spell with proper capitalization so as not to confuse my sweetheart of a friend Dino who previously thought I was hacked. Therefore, all explanations of my experiences are based on the inner working of the eHarmony website. Now that we are all on the same page, let us unleash the fury.

First, as I have said before, eHarmony is only for the serious user since you have to answer about 3,000 questions. By the time that you get the point where you finally get to create your profile, you are no doubt exhausted. At the same time, I also do not understand achieving the feat of persevering to the “create a profile”  page only to describe yourself in the most stupid and unflattering way possible. Of all the work you have done so far, this page the one thing that others will actually see. It is not the time to hurriedly punch out some randomness because you are twenty minutes late for twofers at the Legion. For instance, these are real responses that my matches have listed on their pages.

How do you spend your leisure time? Relaxing.

What this tells me about you is that I am confident you know the definition of leisure, which, being a lover of words, I can appreciate. What this obviously does not tell me is what it is you find relaxing. If boating, music or bonfires are relaxing to you, we are already in love. If woodwork, wizardry (Harry Potter or otherwise), or composting your garbage is relaxing, goodbye. 

What is your occupation? Specialist.

Are you a fireman who braves blazes and rescues kittens from trees? Are you in medicine and are working on an important research project? Do you deliver sandwiches with precise directions? Can you find the negative in everyday situations? What exactly is your specialty in?

What is something that you are passionate about? Technology

No thanks. I use a Discman at the gym.

What is the most important trait in a match? Fun.

Really?!? That’s so weird. I hate having fun. Nothing ruins my mood like a good time.

Now, this is a double-edged sword. For the matches that I get who elaborate on the fact that they like to “relax” during their leisure time, I commonly see the following answers: fishing, camping, rock climbing, hunting, tractoring, ATV’s or spending time with my kids. Let’s address each one of these, shall we?

Fishing. I have no problem with fishing. I think it sounds like an excellent activity for a guys weekend. However, I do enjoy boating, so if you ever would want me to come along, I would have a grand old time tanning and reading a book as a casual fishing observer. But I do not touch bait, I cannot bait a hook, and I do not enjoy that the few times I have gone fishing I always snag the idiot one who swallows the hook and has to have his throat ripped out. I also do not understand the excitement that is inevitable at fish frys.  

Camping. I “car camp.” I refuse to “camp camp.” The distinction is that if you can drive me to the exact place where the tent is going to go, and you can put it up, and you have an air mattress with a minimum of a four-inch thickness, and there is a shower with hot water and no bug infestations within 75 yards of the tent, I will think about accompanying you. For a two day maximum.

Rock climbing. Does my visit to Vertical Endeavors last year count?

Hunting. Fail. Now, I love me some steak and a Jucy Lucy every now and then. But in my mind, we are past the days of hunting and gathering as a hobby, and we need to cut that cord and let it go. All the meat I will ever need in my life is available at Von Hansen’s. Never have I ever eaten meat in shame because I did not kill it myself.

Tractoring. Now, not only did you make a new verb, but you lost my interest in two ways. The only tractor experience I can think of that I enjoyed was watching Wren dominate Chuck a la Footloose. Additionally, your inability to successfully use the English language sealed the deal.

ATV’s. My understanding of ATV’s is so minimal that the one weekend in 1989 that I rode on one, I didn’t know where the engine was, and how hot it would get, and that I should make sure my feet avoided it. As a result, I literally melted my kick-ass new Sorels onto my foot. My mom was pissed.

Spending time with my kids. Now, yes, this is very sweet. I hope that when I have kids, I will like wasting my free time with mine, too. But this is still a problem for so many reasons. I have already addressed this here, and this is also a problem because it was supposed to be a “non-negotiable.”

So why am I getting matches that have traits I considered non-negotiable? Because eHarmony will often send you Flex Matches, which are people that they think are a good match for you in many ways, but may have one or two traits that you did not select as ideal. For example, they may have kids when you prefer none, or they may live in Rochester when you preferred a fifty mile radius, or they may be older or younger than your preferred age range. It’s a nice little way to get in those that you may have never been introduced to with your current settings.

The problem is it seems like the majority of the matches I get are Flex Matches. And not from Rochester. Way farther. Like, from Madison, WI. And Iowa. And Michigan. So basically, eHarmony is unable to find anyone really awesome in the Minneapolis/Saint Paul area. Like this is supposed to be news to me. Well, I didn’t need a computer dating machine to tell me that. Damn it.

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4 Responses to “The Undateables”

  1. Meg Says:

    “Do you deliver sandwiches with precise directions?” We sure know who doesn’t do that, know don’t we?

    🙂 <- That's me, happy because the Amy I know and love so dearly is back. (Just know that you're always welcome to be in a funk. Look at me, I'm practically an expert!!)

    I must admit, I'm quite shocked that tractoring doesn't give you a monster of an orgasm on the spot. I mean, hello, there's this song, "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" and I'm sure the Flex Match is assuming you, too, will find his tractor (and his tractoring?) sexy. Never mind – it's a country song, of course you haven't heard it.

    XOXO (Xs are kisses and Os are hugs, btw),
    Megs

  2. Well, I never have a problem with my sandwiches. Maybe that’s because I’m just fine with just eating them the way that they make them. 🙂

    I actually have heard “She Think My Tractor’s Sexy” and it makes me want to barf. Anyone turned on by barfing is also not a Flex Match I need to meet.

  3. Dino Says:

    This was a great blog to wake up to this morning, and I even made it into the blog, I am honored. Also I’m glad you did not get hacked, sorry for the freak out. Amy I feel your pain with the online dating thing. It is really more hassle than help. We should start our own singles club. No admission fees, drinking, dancing, and patios (when it’s nice out) included.

    • Well, the only thing I know about creating a business is that you need to start with a plan. Since I’m pretty sure you’d be the brains of this duo, put some pretty words in a somewhat logical order on a piece of paper and sign me up.


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