I am not sure
if I should confess this or not, but I have joined the other 38 million-ish
people and succumbed to (read in a whisper) online dating…?? (*ashamed
face) Ahh… it’s so shameful. But after many conversations with fellow
single ladies, we’ve come to recognize that this (sadly) is the way the world
is going. So for those of you, who have
never had the pleasure (ha) of having to sign yourself up for an online dating
site, let me walk to you through it.
First of all you are forced to come up with a username, and chances are your name is probably taken. So it ends up being, completely ridiculous, lackluster, or unoriginal like Cantcomeupwithausername101, or Blondie4. Oh the indecency! This unfortunate step in the process is 2nd to coming up with a header for your profile, which requires you to again be creative and express what you want from the site. You are then asked to specify what it is you are looking for, and then tell the online dating pond a little about yourself. Insert unimpressed face. It is this process of peacocking and polishing your appearance for strangers that make this form of dating seem so frivolous and...*wimper, sad.
My first date was tonight. I have dated before, all people I had known previously for at least months prior, so this was brand new for me. Talking myself through it, I coached, “this is good Alexa, you are putting yourself out there.” “what’s the worst that could happen?” “Play the interviewer…” as piece by piece my hair went from poker straight to “care-free” curled. To take my mind off the enormous jump of faith I was about to take, I calmed myself with youtube videos of Olef from Frozen. ( that little snowman has a lot of insight on life..) Dressed and ready to go I hopped on a bus to take me 40 minutes away from my little white house. This is a rare occurrence for me as public transit isn’t my favorite when it is hovering around -100. Again to take my mind off what was about to occur I dug my nose into pride and prejudice and got lost in my Jane Austin when...Osborne station approached. Leaving Mr Darcy and Miss Bennett in the early stages of there romance I closed the cover and commenced the next leg of my journey to my own romance. Sadly, and yet not surprising at all, this selected place of meeting was not a simple one-bus trek. No no, it was two, punctuated with a 15 minute wait. Outside. In minus a million!! I like to think I am proactive, so instead of becoming a frozen ice sculpture somewhat resembling a human, I forced my icy toes attached to my frozen feet to move forward to the lights up ahead that gave me hope of heat. With a new perspective I saw golden arches glowing in front of me. I hastened my steps with the hope of warmth and frost-bite free feet! Those golden arches were more than shelter from the elements they were a haven complete with free coffee!? How did I get so lucky as to receive such a gift from Mr. McDonald himself? This reprise from the cold allowed feeling to seep back into my extremities, and prepare me for the last leg of my journey – the 4 minute bus trip south. I left the shelter under the golden arches and careful climbed over icy snow to make it to the bus stop and waited patiently for 16 to come for me. I loaded onto the bus and mouthed to myself the name of my stop, really blissfully unaware of what was ahead of me.
I sat at table that was too close for comfort to the hostess desk and the front door. After settling, I heard a man’s voice behind me and before I could look up from my phone he was sitting down beside me. We greeted each other and within 2 minutes I realized this was going to be a long night. He was a good-looking gentleman, but there was no fire in his eyes and no pull in his smile. I tried to ignite conversation that would uncover some passion but even topics of passion for him were like that of a spark. My glass of wine was really too small for this evening. My mom has given me wise advice and that is to play the interviewer… but playing the interviewer becomes wildly less fun when those interviewed only have one speed, one emotion, one expression, one tone….. oh the night began to drag after about 30 minutes. Knowing the door was so close only magnified the agony. Somehow two hours passed with a half picked at cheese plate, two empty wine glasses and very long pauses between fragmented sentences. Somewhere between the glass of wine that appeared before me and the last bite of raspberry my will to go on vanished. I wished, and if a moment allowed me privacy, I would have closed my eyes to maximize my wish potential that tele-porters existed and were small enough to hide in my bag.
I know what I am looking for – at least I think I do. I know I want passionate conversation, and someone who will make me laugh, and will laugh with me. I need curiosity and cleverness combined with that underlying current of chemistry. Maybe this online platform for dating will be fruitful, or maybe it won't. I won't know until I've tried. So bravely I press forward.
According to my mother, my grandma used to say, "there are more fish in the sea than ever came out of it..." which I interpret as, if that is true then there is hope.
First of all you are forced to come up with a username, and chances are your name is probably taken. So it ends up being, completely ridiculous, lackluster, or unoriginal like Cantcomeupwithausername101, or Blondie4. Oh the indecency! This unfortunate step in the process is 2nd to coming up with a header for your profile, which requires you to again be creative and express what you want from the site. You are then asked to specify what it is you are looking for, and then tell the online dating pond a little about yourself. Insert unimpressed face. It is this process of peacocking and polishing your appearance for strangers that make this form of dating seem so frivolous and...*wimper, sad.
My first date was tonight. I have dated before, all people I had known previously for at least months prior, so this was brand new for me. Talking myself through it, I coached, “this is good Alexa, you are putting yourself out there.” “what’s the worst that could happen?” “Play the interviewer…” as piece by piece my hair went from poker straight to “care-free” curled. To take my mind off the enormous jump of faith I was about to take, I calmed myself with youtube videos of Olef from Frozen. ( that little snowman has a lot of insight on life..) Dressed and ready to go I hopped on a bus to take me 40 minutes away from my little white house. This is a rare occurrence for me as public transit isn’t my favorite when it is hovering around -100. Again to take my mind off what was about to occur I dug my nose into pride and prejudice and got lost in my Jane Austin when...Osborne station approached. Leaving Mr Darcy and Miss Bennett in the early stages of there romance I closed the cover and commenced the next leg of my journey to my own romance. Sadly, and yet not surprising at all, this selected place of meeting was not a simple one-bus trek. No no, it was two, punctuated with a 15 minute wait. Outside. In minus a million!! I like to think I am proactive, so instead of becoming a frozen ice sculpture somewhat resembling a human, I forced my icy toes attached to my frozen feet to move forward to the lights up ahead that gave me hope of heat. With a new perspective I saw golden arches glowing in front of me. I hastened my steps with the hope of warmth and frost-bite free feet! Those golden arches were more than shelter from the elements they were a haven complete with free coffee!? How did I get so lucky as to receive such a gift from Mr. McDonald himself? This reprise from the cold allowed feeling to seep back into my extremities, and prepare me for the last leg of my journey – the 4 minute bus trip south. I left the shelter under the golden arches and careful climbed over icy snow to make it to the bus stop and waited patiently for 16 to come for me. I loaded onto the bus and mouthed to myself the name of my stop, really blissfully unaware of what was ahead of me.
I sat at table that was too close for comfort to the hostess desk and the front door. After settling, I heard a man’s voice behind me and before I could look up from my phone he was sitting down beside me. We greeted each other and within 2 minutes I realized this was going to be a long night. He was a good-looking gentleman, but there was no fire in his eyes and no pull in his smile. I tried to ignite conversation that would uncover some passion but even topics of passion for him were like that of a spark. My glass of wine was really too small for this evening. My mom has given me wise advice and that is to play the interviewer… but playing the interviewer becomes wildly less fun when those interviewed only have one speed, one emotion, one expression, one tone….. oh the night began to drag after about 30 minutes. Knowing the door was so close only magnified the agony. Somehow two hours passed with a half picked at cheese plate, two empty wine glasses and very long pauses between fragmented sentences. Somewhere between the glass of wine that appeared before me and the last bite of raspberry my will to go on vanished. I wished, and if a moment allowed me privacy, I would have closed my eyes to maximize my wish potential that tele-porters existed and were small enough to hide in my bag.
I know what I am looking for – at least I think I do. I know I want passionate conversation, and someone who will make me laugh, and will laugh with me. I need curiosity and cleverness combined with that underlying current of chemistry. Maybe this online platform for dating will be fruitful, or maybe it won't. I won't know until I've tried. So bravely I press forward.
According to my mother, my grandma used to say, "there are more fish in the sea than ever came out of it..." which I interpret as, if that is true then there is hope.
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