Dating for Martians: The Tally

Cupid

Dating profile: I like speed, as in velocity. And a man who is dangerous but good.

                                                                                                                                                       

~ This is a continuation of Dating for Martians: Does Online Dating Mean Defeat? ~

“This is no place for a young spider like you,” I said, raptly watching the tiny creature move across my bathroom door.

I had a vision of grabbing a glass to trap it and bring outside, but what if displacing would make it die? So I let it be.

“You better not crawl into my bed and bite me, that’s all I have to say to you.”

Then it occurred to me, now I have to go and change my answer on that dating website.

The site pairs you with potential matches based on your mutual answers.

If you see a bug in your home, you:

a.) kill it
b.) bring it outside
c.) leave it alone

Originally I had chosen “b.” But clearly I had evolved to “c,” and maybe it was because of this discrepancy in my answer that I hadn’t matched with someone I liked yet? During the “entire” seven days since signing up, maybe some wonderful Buddhist had passed me up because I was willing to displace poor little spiders.

Those were the innocent first days of my online dating experiment.

If you follow the Dating for Martians posts, you read in the first entry that in real life I meet an abundance of great guys — who are too young.

“I keep meeting thirty-year-olds,” I complain to my friends.

“That’s because they think you’re thirty,” my friends say.

“No, it’s because older guys are in hiding. Except when they’re at Whole Foods. And if they’re at Whole Foods, it means they already have a date and they’re cooking for her. Or him.”

In the second Martian dating post, I came to terms with the fact that “I’m a mammal, dammit” and there was no defeat in admitting I love…love. Even if it meant giving online dating a try.

I gave it a try.

I refused to feel shame, and waved a bright, happy flag about it in that second post. The flag waved higher once the post was featured on Freshly Pressed and brought more readers with whom online dating resonated.

So it’s with staggering irony that I tell you now, it turns out I wasn’t cut out for online dating. And that’s after an overwhelmingly positive experience.

So, why then? Where to start. My dating profile, I suppose.

I chose a username by combining the names of two tragic opera heroines. I was experimenting to see how many guys would get opera references on this cooler, less mainstream dating site. Answer: A handful. The rest called me “Mimi” and assumed “Tosca” was my last name.

Naming myself Mimitosca, after a consumptive prostitute combined with a celebrated but suicidal singer, didn’t hold special meaning for me other than my recollection of opera is limited to audience-friendly Puccini.

I put up ten flattering, representative, versatile pictures of myself, but nothing overly sexy or too modely.

Most of my profile, verbatim:


GGgrid

You know how “only when you’re not looking” you might find someone who strikes your subjective fancy? Considering we’re here looking, let’s hope that theory is a crock.

First, I don’t initiate contact because some women have a not-so-secret desire to be properly courted.

Second, I’m grateful for every message, but time is limited and if I don’t respond, it’s just because I like polka dots and you offer stripes.

WHO I AM:  I’m both playful and serious, kid-like and lady-like. I’ll always take unconventionality over conventionality. I have strong opinions and I’m unafraid of voicing them. I don’t pretend that physical appearances don’t matter — mine or yours — so I take good care of mine. I like speed, as in velocity. I enjoy hikes and road-trips as much as luxury and first-class travel. I don’t like to cook, but will happily chop and do the dishes. I’m both passionate and compassionate. Finally, I’m humanly flawed and the traits I value in myself are the same as those I seek in others: honor, sincerity, intelligence, kindness.

WHO I WANT:  A guy who’s dangerous but good. A man of good character and taste who prizes integrity within himself and takes pride in how he lives. I like a man who is both physical and cerebral. For example, a book-lover who rides motorcycles and can build a house from the ground up. Or a cowboy who recites Rilke. Or an orchestral composer who has climbed Mount Everest.

Brilliance, great looks, decency, and of course, humor — I’d imagine that’s your shopping list too, no?

WHY I’M HERE:  Not sure. But definitely not for random, casual or superficial interaction.

WHAT I’M DOING WITH MY LIFE:  I’m the artistic type, which means aspirations, bursts of talent, and getting close to finding my way. I act, I edit, I make films. And I write.

I’M REALLY GOOD AT:  Having a strong sense of self.

SIX THINGS I CAN NEVER DO WITHOUT:
Words
Travel
Snowboarding
Alone time
Exploration
My loved ones

MOST PRIVATE THING I’M WILLING TO ADMIT HERE:  I like cartoons and cursing.

YOU SHOULD MESSAGE ME IF:
…you’ve taken the time to read this entire profile and don’t find yourself offended.
…you’re not a porn addict.

I know I’m not making this easy, so accept my thanks in advance.


It wasn’t a particularly warm profile, but I was “shopping” for a specific set of criteria. There was no other reason to be on a dating site, as far as I was concerned. The bit about the candidates not finding themselves offended was prompted by a previous experience. Years ago, I had a profile up for two days on a different dating site, and there, some guy sent me a message with the following subject line:

“A Legend, A Legend, A Legend…”

When I opened the message, it read,“…in her own mind.”

The message made me chuckle. It didn’t sit well with the poor guy that my profile amounted to, “I’m intelligent, I’m interesting, I’m decent-looking. Be the same.”

I’m just not coy.

But the next time around, I did include thanks and regrets in my profile. I feel empathy toward anyone who puts themselves out there to likely be rejected.

My new profile was a success.

No one was offended, no internet troll shed a tear, and I didn’t get any untoward propositions. The few bold kids who messaged in hopes of a quick encounter, clearly not having read my profile in which I detailed I was the opposite of casual, still weren’t rude about it. In addition, I did receive message upon message from polite, intelligent men.

In my entire adult life, my (earnest) stint with online dating lasted a grand total of twelve weeks — six weeks during the summer, six during the winter.

Over the course of those staggered weeks, I met seven great guys in person. With each, I had an instant bond. Out of the seven, I dated two, one over the summer, and one recently. The latter is known to some readers as the Perfect Man, and his story is still an untouched branch of the crazy tree (stories in my head that branch off into other stories).

But it wasn’t because of the Perfect Man that I shut down my profile. Nor was it to spare myself of the men.

It was to spare the men of me.

And that’s a story on its way.

Incidentally, the spider in my apartment sometimes crawls on the wall under my desk. But even with my legs bare, the spider hasn’t done anything to make me regret my choice to cohabit with it.

~ Continued at Dating for Martians: The Trail of Gentlemen Callers ~

 

Cathartic Monkeyism

  • You can present yourself how you want, but usually the real you is the best you.

Sign Up

   for new GG posts

GG◊  Thanks for your comments, shares and likes. Most of all, sincere thanks for reading.
◊  If you enjoy and want more GG, do sign up!
◊  You can also follow GG verbal and pictorial missives on TwitterFacebook and  Instagram.


~ Tell me your thoughts below ~


WordPress informs me that below this paragraph or elsewhere on the site, random ads out of my control might appear unless I spring for the no-ad upgrade. If so, apologies.

Advertisement

23 comments

  1. lrconsiderer · · Reply

    Sounds cautiously optimistic…looking forward to the next branch.

    Honesty is always the best policy, as long as you’re honest about self-editing. (by ‘you’, I mean me…because I self-edit my real life, as well. And here…well, the Blogosphere just makes it easier to only be so honest…

    1. Next branch coming up. Not sure where you’re getting the “optimistic” part, but I’ll take it!

      Honesty is non-negotiable for me. My own and those who want to be close to me. As far as online, at times I find myself working through a sentence or paragraph for an inordinate amount of time because I don’t wan’t to compromise its honesty, but have to work around a sticky point that shouldn’t be made public.

      1. lrconsiderer · ·

        I won’t lie outright, but there are subjects I skirt and answers I avoid.

        There are things which belong to me alone. Things which belong to me and a select few, and it goes upward and outward to the things I’m happy for anyone to know.

        But I deal in truths.

        Optimism : The Perfect Man. His as-yet-untouched branch of the crazy tree. Your willingness to try the experience, twice, and come to a decision about it which is right for you. Your meetings with men. Your dates. Your spider.

        All pretty sparkly from where I sit…

      2. You are in fact, astonishingly honest. I love that about you.

        I will tell you what’s sparkly: writing. And maybe the spider.

      3. lrconsiderer · ·

        On the days where I’m feeling rather more Machiavellian, I think that perhaps you can buy people with Truths – that it can be a source of gain, even as you give things away.

        Ack. All that glitters, huh? I have the next section open in my browser…

        (and I once had a spider called Frank. He was just a house spider, but I bore with him because I decided I liked him a bit. I now have a tarantula called SpideyGirl. I like her a bit but she stays in her cage because she has such awful mood swings. Well. One mood swing. She used to be nice, then she shed her skin and turned into a bitch.)

  2. Must be the Hollywood in me… or maybe it’s Disney, but I’m kinda sorry it didn’t work out for you.

    By way of sharing, I met my husband online. I still haven’t written about it. Probably because it was actually very boring and wouldn’t make good copy.

    One good thing came from the dating profile writing exercise, though. I was able to use it for my About page on WordPress. Minor amendments of course.

    THEN I find out, while studying statistics the following:

    “The four founders of the online dating site OkCupid are mathematicians who use methods of statistics to analyze results from their website. The chief executive officer of OkCupid has been quoted as saying, “We’re not psychologists. We’re math guys.” The OkCupid website is unique in its use of methods of statistics to match people more effectively.

    By analyzing the photos and responses of 7000 users, analysts at OkCupid found that when creating a profile photo, men should not look directly at the camera, and they should not smile. For women, the appearance of being interesting produces much better results than the appearance of being sexy. They found that brevity is good for the first posted message; the ideal length of the first posted message is 40 words—about what a typical person can type in one minute.”

    40 words, eh? Mine was 783.

    I would say that you managed to capture interesting (whatever the hell that means!) AND sexy.

    1. Don’t be sorry — it wasn’t that it didn’t work out; it just wasn’t suitable for me (I’m writing all about why). I definitely recommend it for others. And I’ve made some — quite possibly — lifetime bonds from there.

      I bet you can make good copy about how you met your husband. There’s always an interesting angle in everything — I would have nothing to write about if that weren’t the case.

      That OkCupid math stuff is interesting. I like the site. And I personally preferred longer initial messages — they felt personal, and that mattered to me. (Have you considered including your 783 word message in the post you may write about meeting your husband?)

      And…thanks for the great compliment, blushing!

  3. Paul · · Reply

    Dear Mizz Tosca : What a lovely name you have Mimi. I was especially entralled that you co-habit with a spider. Some of my best friends are spiders. Have you named your spider yet? I find that my realtionships inevitably deepen when my spiders have lovely names like yours. My Mom tells me that living with a spider is dangerous, so I guess I meet your criteria of “dangerous but good” (as my Mom says I’m good and I don’t kill spiders, so I must be). I too like speed and have a very high-end bicycle that I use to travel everywhere. This puts me in excellent physical condition. I read a lot – mostly graphic novels – and sometimes wear cowboy boots. Thank you for your consideration, Wolfgang Tchaikovsky

    Ha! Neat post GG. I love the way you structured you profile – knock and the door shall be opened; ask and ye shall be answered. So, let me get this straight – you asked for your perfect mate and so many perfect mates applied, you had to shut down your account? I’m gonna have to try that! Meanwhile, I’m eagerly awaiting the next installment. Perfect Man, here we come!

    1. Dear Wolfang T.,

      First, that’s “Senora” to you. Second, I do appreciate your…appreciation of spiders. For you, I will name my spider, “Simon.” You don’t sound half bad — just put a motor on that “high-end” bike.

      Dear Paul,

      I’m devoting an entire post to your question. It should go up in a few hours.

  4. Shit, I’d date you after reading that. You’re dynamic, intelligent, and amazing. Can I buy you a drink?

    Love this series! Can’t wait for the next installment!

    1. Yes, buy me a drink, please…! Or I’ll buy the drinks as long you bring them over — I’ve been siting at this desk for thirty hours with four hours of sleep in between, trying to finish out this monstrosity of a “thought.” (The whole dating / crazy tree thing.)

  5. You clearly know exactly what you want. I hope you find him.

    1. Thank you… I find myself repeating this — life will be groovy even if I don’t. Of course, I’m not sure why I’ve been getting into the hippy-speak lately, using words like “dig” and “groovy…”

      I like the name of your blog, haha!

  6. I want to be you when I grow up. And, if I were a man, I’d be your soulmate.
    Rock on, Geisha.

    1. Cool!

      – Grateful GG

  7. Mike · · Reply

    I wonder how many “hits” or interests you got because you’re an actress? Were there many? Getting to know the blogger posts are some of favorites so sharing your online dating profile was a lot of fun to read. I think another appeal to me with you as an online blogging friend is that you don’t seem to be self-centered. Meaning, that a IRL conversation with you would have a mutual dialogue of listening and sharing. Versus women who prattle on 100% about them and never once ask about anything to do with me or my life. I can’t stand that. “It was to spare the men of me…” I do hope you elaborate on that part specifically soon, Gunmetal 🙂

    1. I live in LA where everyone is a failed or wannabe actor, so I think being an actress would be a point against me, not the other way around.

      While I don’t disagree that some women can prattle on, I’ve met a great portion of men who do too! Self-centeredness does not discriminate…

      “Spare the men of me” — Oh I’m elaborating on it, Mike. Maybe too much. I’ll post it tonight, probably.

  8. Love that profile — unique, revealing, and candid!

    1. Thanks Darcy for checking it out!

  9. cedrixclarke · · Reply

    I met my wife prior to online dating, and I can’t imagine the profile that I would have drafted back when I didn’t know anything (in my early 20s). I’m sure I wouldn’t have been smart enough to be fearlessly honest. Just thinking about it makes me cringe a bit. 🙂 With that said, I’m enjoying living vicariously through your experience. It makes me smile, and that’s a very good thing.

    1. Good, because more is coming!

  10. maurnas · · Reply

    I tried online dating. But it isn’t for me. I don’t meet the type of guys I want to date on there. I am fine with waiting.

    1. I hear you. Completely.

Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: