4 girls, 3 months, 2 websites, 1 giant experiment.

Dating is a six letter word. -- TUCKER

2010-02-23T22:38:00.001-08:00

Well… I’m baaaaaack. Relationships 101. They can end as quickly as they begin. Without going into detail, I’ll say this: I thought this relationship was all I ever wanted. But in the end, it just wasn’t right.
I’m not sure where I’m headed from here. Online dating again? Eh. Obviously, I’ve explored match.com and eHarmony. Wowza. What a pair of DUDS. match.com and eHarmony let me down like a lazy employee lets down their boss on a daily basis. I still think I would have better luck at the local watering hole… but I don’t really spend much time at my local watering hole, so THAT’S the issue.
Question: What’s next?
Friends:
I’ve pretty much bled dry all my friends of their single friends… and I really have to say, it was pretty slim pickins from the beginning. For some reason, my friends (who are mostly married) are friends with other married couples and aren’t friends with a ton of single guys (read: single, dateable men).
Bars:
I’m not 21 anymore. I don’t “go out clubbin’” anymore (not that I ever did). It is very, very rare that I get dressed up on a Friday night and head out to the bars after 9pm. Unless there’s a birthday party or special event planned, I’ve become more of the “happy hour” girl. Happy hour is fantastic for those of you who haven’t discovered this little gem yet. Awesome deals on drinks and bites to eat, and you’re home by 8pm at the latest. I know, I know. I might as well get a cat. But I’m allergic, so THERE.
Working Out:
I’m just going to lay my cards out on the table. When I work out, I sweat. I’m not a super model wearing hot pants and a push up bra when working out. At the gym, I’m raising my heart rate, and seriously not trying to attract guys at this particular moment… because at I might be scary looking (read: at least really sweaty with raccoon eyes). When I run Greenlake, I’m running with headphones and I may or may not be singing along to Poker Face to help me forget the agony of running (I run, but no one said I liked it). Regardless, I’m pretty sure meeting someone while working out is pretty much a no-go.
Answer: Who the Hell knows. And I’m ok with that.

Will You Be My Valentine? - KITTY

2010-02-12T14:34:00.000-08:00

Hey Kiddos,

Before the days of eHarmony, Match, Chemistry and LoveLab, there was this:

I must remind you that despite copious amounts of suspenders, aquanet, polyester and power mustaches a la Tom Selleck, this video boldly represents the era in which many of you were conceived. Just marinate on that for a hot second.

A couple of months ago, Ellen found three of these fine gentlemen: Phil, whose friends call "Big Phil" (he's tiny); Maurice, the executive by day and wild man by night; and Mike, who doesn't like you if you smoke (and busts a really amazing move around the 1:20 split-screen) and invited them to be on her show.

It should be no surprise to you that 2 of 3 are still single.

Happy V-kend,

Kitty

Dear eHarmony: It's Over, And It's Not Me, It's You. - KITTY

2010-02-08T12:07:00.001-08:00

Hi, I’m Debbie Downer. Some of you might know me as Negative Nancy. I have a couple of new adventures to tell you about, but first, some business.

This has been a dateless, actionless, winkless week for me. Obviously, I’m fiercely combating the inactivity in my dating life with copious amounts of mac and cheese (both lunch and dinner yesterday), chocolate, champagne and – thank GOD – hot yoga.

I saw Six-String this weekend. It was impromptu. I’m getting the feeling he’s not much of a planner, which is why I’m not much of a thinker that it’ll go anywhere. We went to a great show on Saturday night, slammed some street meat and then got entirely too little sleep. It was our third “date”, if you can call it that. I like his beard.

In the last couple of weeks, my Match profile has had ZERO activity. Like, for example, one of the last people to have viewed my profile is a creepy-guy in cute-guy disguise. In 15 days, it appears that he’s visited my profile over 18 times. The last exchange we had was over a month ago, when I still thought he was cute, and it went a little something like this: He winked; I emailed; he emailed and asked me out; I emailed back a yes I’d like that; and he never replied. Fun. Yet he kindly visits my profile no less than three times a week as if it’s a Facebook status update and I’ve somehow changed something, look different or can’t see the fact that he’s actually stalking me on Match.com. For the record, it’s actually not possible to secretly stalk someone on Match.com.

So I re-joined eHarmony. I’m unsubscribing this week. For those of you who don’t know, I reluctantly joined eHarmony about a year ago prior to meeting my most recent ex. I met a guy on the site – yes, one - but the night we were supposed to go on our first date, I cancelled on him in favor of a first date with my most recent ex, the one who broke my heart, who I had just met the weekend prior. Talk about a life-changing decision.

As it turns out, eHarmony is still a social hub for semi-special-needs gamers who don’t use spell-check and are all about the height of your average garden-gnome. Or they are missing teeth. I’m serious. I wish I could publish some photos without totally exposing identity.

I’ve come to this conclusion, and tell me if you agree: Match.com is like being set up by a friend - not a close friend, but an acquaintance; and eHarmony is like being set up in an arranged marriage by your parents who really don’t know you because you’ve lived at boarding school since you were six.

It’s a double edged sword, this online dating thing. Most popular dating sites have this function that I like to call the “Diet Button”. Why? Because it makes me want to go on a diet. It has the ability to – at once – throw a big sopping wet blanket over the warm fuzzy you get when you come across someone who you actually wouldn’t mind sitting across a dinner table from for an hour. So you boldly send a wink. Or perhaps you spend a few minutes carefully crafting a little witty-but-don’t-worry-I-didn’t-try-too-hard email. And BAM. Rejected. And without reason! It allows users, without knowing more than 500 words about you, to let you know they’d rather not know anything more about you, thank you very much. Ouch. It feels about as good as a cold, hard jab to the jugular followed by a pat on the back. Which is the worst kind of hug. It feels like being dumped before you ever went on a date.

But, see, I’ve been on both the giving and receiving ends of the Diet Button. I only use it if someone has sent me an email, a wink and perpetually tries to IM me. At that point a restraining order might be necessary, and no Diet Button will ever fix that amount of crazy.

eHarmony has a feature called “Close Communication”. I don’t know why, but my conscience is far less guilty closing communications with people through eHarmony than through Match. I think it’s because I don’t have to look at them ever again. They’ll never come up in searches. And they can’t reach out to me ever again. Out of sight, out of mind. Plus, it gives me multiple choice options for why I’m no longer interested, one of which is the ultimate evasive cop-out, “Other”. Which really means, I prefer communicating with men who have their canines and bicuspids intact and don’t wear Sketchers, thank you very much.

To give you some perspective, I’ve closed 258 of 276 “compatible matches” on eHarmony. I haven’t logged into the site in over a week. Either I’m just generally incompatible with humans or I need to terminate my relationship with eHarmony.

Should we settle for Mr. Okay? - ABBY

2010-02-04T14:26:00.000-08:00

A good friend (and fellow online dater) just sent me this article about women, dating, and whether we are waiting around for a Prince Charming who just might not ever show up. Should we be willing to "settle" for someone who has 80% of what we're looking for?

The article definitely made me think. Is my list of "must haves" too long? It's probably not a good sign that when I read "He has to know how to order wine in a restaurant" in regards to how particular women get about their ideal man, I thought "hey, that's a good one to add to my list!"

I've never really thought about it in these terms, but women in their twenties DO have a lot of power. We're independent, unattached, and envied. We can buy tickets to Coachella at a moment's notice or deny a guy a second date because of his choice of shoes.

I don't quite know how to wrap this up, but it's definitely something that will be running through my mind as I check out my next batch of eHarmony matches. I would love to hear what you guys think!

The Six-String: A Two-Date Montage – KITTY

2010-01-28T20:21:00.000-08:00

Last week I went to see a hip show thrown by a local band with BFF and a few others. I’d been looking so forward to the show all week, and needed a reprise from life, if only for one night. These shows are the best because everyone gets sweaty and dancy and the crowd is always really fun and rowdy.

Read: I was in store for a guaranteed good time. I just knew it.

One of my hobbies is photography. I was shooting some photos from the 2^nd level balcony, when a handsome (Bearded! Bonus round!) gent with sparkly eyes, tattoos and great hair standing next to me asked if I was shooting for profession or for hobby. I explained that it was mostly a tinkering hobby – nothing that I’m great at, but something I really enjoy. As it turns out he covers local shows for a big music blog here in Seattle.

He’s cute. He’s wearing a blue plaid Wrangler shirt with pearl buttons. Dark Levis. Vans. He’s about 6’3 and has long-ish hair and looks like he knows his way around a six-string. I find out later that my suspicions are correct. I also find out later that his voice sounds like a harder but sweeter early Cash. I can't complain.

I’m wearing all black, as usual. Black top, black bandage skirt and my favourite shoes of all time: Black vintage Wrangler cowboy boots.

I poke fun at him for drinking PBR, suggesting that he’s only trying to maintain his Capitol Hill street cred. He tells me he only drinks it when he shoots whiskey. My kinda guy. I respond by telling him that he and I have a date with the bar in 15 minutes. And so begun a bit of a crazy evening.

I won’t spend too much time here because the rest of the night involved dancing and singing and sneaking around backstage causing trouble like teenagers. I emailed him the following morning, and he suggested that we meet up.

So last night, we did just that.

The sartorial breakdown: I wore a red and black plaid overshirt, unbuttoned with a heather grey deep-V underneath. Dark skinny denim, flats and a leather jacket. Not the best first (second?) date outfit, but fitting for The Sloop which smells like puke that was rubbed into an old carpet and rinsed with beer. He wore: A hip black wool jacket, another Wrangler plaid shirt with pearl buttons, dark denim and Campers.

Prior to our date was some big talk about arcade games. So we met at The Sloop at 8PM, because they have Big Buck Hunter Safari on big screen. I got there about 15 min. late (oops) - he was totally cool about it. We had beers (Stella for me, Mac & Jack for him) and great conversation at a little table until about 10:45, at which point we put a $20 in the machine and I proceeded to get my ass handed to me.

He's really good. He kept giving me little tips (Really stuff that gun into your shoulder; shoot the bottom ones first, and work your way up; You're ADD - focus on one target). He would say "nice kill, Tex!" every time I had a good shot. I was giggly and felt ridiculous at how high my heart jumped when I was on the receiving end of one of his nudges.

The jukebox kept playing really bad songs from the late 90s. At his suggestion, we slowdanced to Aerosmith in front of the Big Buck Hunter machine.

We connected on a lot of things: Politics; music; ideology; film; humor. We had great conversation, which was no surprise to me. We closed the bar down, and were the last to leave just after 1AM. I told him I'd give him a ride home (he lives under a mile from the bar and had walked), so I drove and pulled over and parked and we talked for a little while longer.

I went in for a goodnight hug, and got a big kiss instead. Fantastic. It wasn't our first kiss, that happened at Neumos sometime after midnight the week prior. We have great chemistry. He stealthily reached over took off my seatbelt and cut my engine, insisting that I come in for a nightcap and to listen to some music. I resisted but then decided there was no harm in that. We were listening to music and hanging out and he was singing to me (I DIE) and playing his guitar (DEAD).

The rest of the very late night is a bit of a blur save a few lasting memories including exchanged whispers of the chorus of With Arms Outstretched, his hands in my hair and his nose in my neck, discussion of who Leonard Cohen really wrote Chelsea Hotel about (Janis Joplin) and who the 4^th- and ever elusive 5^th - Beatles really were.

I had kind of lost it. All of it. And I couldn't help but think that at the same time I was losing it he was writing little lyrics in his head.

Stay tuned…

Incompatible - ABBY

2010-01-25T13:33:00.000-08:00

So before you go and think that Kitty is having all the fun, I thought it was time for me to post. Wait, Kitty IS having all the fun (along with Tucker and Georgina...Andy too, but she needs to post that herself).

In short, eHarmony has given up on me. I haven't gotten a new match in days and it seems that Dr. Neil Clark Warren was scraping the bottom of the barrel with the last few. Honestly, I haven't felt much like blogging about my lack of dates. Hey, I'm allowed to be a little depressed, today is officially Blue Monday after all!

I guess Dr. Neil and I just aren't compatible. I don't think he's listening to my needs (a liberal, attractive, intelligent guy over 5'9" who knows how to use spell check). He probably thinks my expectations are too high (I have closed 326 matches since joining). It just doesn't look like this relationship is going anywhere.

I do have 2 "set-ups" on the horizon (with non-eHarm guys) that I'm looking forward to. I don't regret signing up for eHarmony and I am still open to the possibility that I could get matched with someone awesome tomorrow.

Until then,

Abby

Singletasking - KITTY

2010-01-23T01:02:00.000-08:00

So lately I've been doing some thinking. About relationships, chemistry, healing. Due, certainly, in no small part to my new friend in Portland.

You might be wondering where that's going, if anywhere. If I've heard from him. I realized that whether or not I heard from him after the date was a lot less about wanting to pursue a relationship, and a lot more about really wanting him in my life - whatever that looked like.

And I did hear from him. He sent me a lovely email sprinkled with humor, a little salt and a great deal of honesty. The mission-critical parts went a little something like this:

"I adore you, and couldn't have cooked up a better distraction/date/crush than you. I think I signed up for Match hoping for a partner, without understanding why I wanted a partner so bad--mostly, I think, for a distraction from the things I need to do. Mostly, go take care of my parents. So I deleted my profile and am making preparations for a trip...trying to focus on my life, not the life I want--waiting for a text or an email or a call from you. Getting some attention from a talented, successful, creative, beautiful woman was exactly what I needed, and I can't thank you enough for that. Thanks for your kind words--I had a great time, but am sorry if I seemed distracted. I guess this is one of those strange times in life where I just don't quite know how to play my hand, or even how to recognize my cards."

In a way, I felt like I was getting dumped.

But then my logic kicked in and I realized that it wasn't about me. It wasn't about whether or not we had a connection. It was about recognizing that timing is a lot more important than we give it credit for.

Sure, the right person at the wrong time is still the right person. I get that. We're not writing each other off. But I'm also not going to expect an emotional or time investment from someone admittedly incapable of giving it to me. I'm past that phase in my life.

You might be wondering why he joined Match.com in the first place, if he isn't ready to date. I am, too. I think it was to meet good people, different people than he was meeting through his regular everyday crunchy Portland routine. He told me on our date that if the only reason he joined Match in the first place was to meet me, well, that that was more than good enough reason for him. I appreciated that. And I concur.

But it all has me thinking: It's not the worst thing to want or desire a distraction from your life. I think sometimes we try to prepare ourselves for foreseeable drama, pain or inconvenience by creating a bit of happiness, if only for a moment (isn't that why people become addicted to drugs,love, lust...shopping... after all?). It's kind of the human condition. No one can be faulted for that. What's important is to dig deep in the dirt and examine our intention and be very honest with ourselves about why we're seeking that escape. Then go fix the root. Which he's totally doing, as am I.

Part of his appeal, in my eyes, was very similar to the reasons why he was intrigued by me. Perhaps it was less the desire to distract from other things, and more the desire to fix what's been so broken in my life recently and somehow, someway grasp in the fog for hope that there are good people in the world.

If life is like a pendulum, where one side of it swings to what feels like rock bottom, well, we always know that for every reaction there is an opposite and equal reaction. So I suppose I'm on the upswing of my pendulum (dare I say), perhaps trying my damndest to push it faster and harder than it's swinging on its own.The good news: I'm on the upswing. The bad news: As it's been said, opposite / equal reaction.

Maybe my focus is spread too thin. Maybe I've gotten used to just being in relationships rather than enjoying the fun and adventure of the dating process. Maybe what I should be focusing on is getting better at single-tasking.

And so we live...

Dealbreakers, Vol. 2 - KITTY

2010-01-23T00:22:00.000-08:00

Dealbreakers. This is not the first time we've covered this subject.

I'd like to take a moment to wax poetic, given my life has been providing me with quite a bit of blog material these days.

Read: I'm dating. A lot.

Bad leather jackets, cargo pants of any variety, Sketchers. Also any individual or combination assult herein: Plaque on teeth, bad breath, arrogance, blunt rudeness to wait staff, intolerance, ponytails (they turn the backs of heads into horses butts) - especially braided ones or pigtailed ones. Buns are ok. Nay, cute.

Weird collections (dolls, plates, toenails). Beer tabs, coins and stamps are obviously fine. Extra points for baseball cards.

Chewing with mouth open (are we five?), checking other women out. Drinking the kool-aid (of any topic, idea, school of thought, company...think for yourself!).

Platform shoes (or any kind of lifts), sansabelts, addictions, trying too hard. Excessive anger, angst, drunkenness, overtly stinky gas, mom or old relationship baggage. More rings or jewlery than me, and I wear a lot so you've got a lot of wiggle room. Don't push it.

Men, let's hear from you...Thoughts?

SEA > PDX: The Best Date Ever - KITTY

2010-01-20T22:03:00.000-08:00

I suppose I owe you all an update.

Update: It was the best date of my life.

Downdate: I don't know if it's going anywhere.

Let me explain…

BFF and I packed up the car for an early-afternoon road trip to Portland. In attendance: Myself, BFF, rations, several overstuffed bags (read: Multiple clothing options for date), freshrolls from Moonlight Café, a roadtrip mix and my Nani, tightly bundled up in the back bucket seat of BFFs 3-series BMW. She had a cute scarf around her neck, and Cheez-Its nestled into her arm. Just in case.

I was nervous. I don't get nervous. But the anticipation was killing me. Our conversations were always uncomfortably perfect. Impenetrable. Worst of all was that I knew that everything hinged on the one most terrifying thing that can swing a date: Attraction.

I mean, by now we’d had it mostly sorted out. Mental connection: Check. Matching sense of humor: Check; identical, though not too, interests: Check. I even liked his voice: Raspy enough to admit a past love affair with nicotine – ooh, danger! --; but clear and crisp enough to indicate he’s not half-bad sounding in the shower. More on that later.

To boot, the inordinate amount of phone dates and emails and texts that we’d had over the past three weeks had, admittedly, shot us both off to wherever cloud nine lives - somewhere up in outer space.

We made record time, beating traffic, accidents and an apparent apocalyptic rainstorm just to the West of the interstate. The sunset was incredible. I sent him a picture. We talked a little more via text. It was cute. My tummy was housing all of these little butterflies.

We arrived in Portland and decided it’d be a fun night to explore. *John (we'll call him) had kindly sent an email and several texts with recommendations on where we should go. Curiously, the bulk of them were smack in the middle of his neighborhood. Portland is a great city but, you guys. It’s kind of dead. Everything was a quiet, cold, deserted little rainy reminder that in a mere 24 hours, I’d be meeting him.

BFF and I spent the morning with Nani crosswording and organizing and making little waffles. We shopped, tax free, at Washington Square and lunched through the Pearl District, where our hotel was for that night. BFF insisted on getting me back to the hotel by 4PM (and no later) to prepare nails (I went with an Essie red, not too blue, not to brick, just right), shower, hair, painting the barn, and general prettification. She’s a good friend. I had a hot shower, a good long pep-talk with myself in the mirror and 5 stiff drinks before I even left. Why was I so nervous?

Here’s why: It all hinged on attraction. Oh, the pressure.

*John sent me a text around 5 telling me to meet him at the Doug Fir, a very hip little joint off of Burnside of which I was familiar. He sent me the URL (via text) and directions. Cute. I know this spot. It’s comfortable and I’m a little relieved. A little.

BFF and I arrive promptly at 7:30, and I wait 5 minutes to walk in, just for good measure, but also because I thought I was going to poop my pants. She plays me a song in the car to pump me up before heading in. Because it’s what we do. This temporarily fixes my anxiety. I text him and tell him I’m close, which is a lie, since I’m already there. He responds immediately that he’s at a table in the back of the bar. Perfect.

I suppose now is a good time for sartorial analysis. I wore: Dark denim; a sheer (but not too sheer) black and white chevron oversized, low-back printed top; dark green Andrew Marc leather bomber jacket; same studded heels as last two dates (about 4”) and some fun accessories (unicorn necklace, engage!). He knows how much black I wear, so I figured I’d throw him off. Since there was so much discussion in prior emails about style – mostly due to his own concern that his apparent lack of it wouldn’t suit my taste – I’ll add what he was sporting: Fitted dark denim (he solicited my help two weeks ago in picking some new duds – these, no doubt, were among the casualties to his wallet); a plaid RCVA shirt, tucked in (cute) that looked something like this; a really cool, fitted micro-something-or-other biker jacket (it was very hip); and black Cole Haan shoes. He looked awesome. I was impressed.

As I walked in the door and approached the table, he immediately stands, with a huge dorky grin on his face. He’s taller than I thought. The bar is packed and someone smells like ham + cheese quiche. He has a great smile. I want to not run - not jump - but LEAP into his arms and kiss his face. I resist, but squeezed him extra tight and snuck a little kiss in on the cheek. I had prepared him for this earlier on the phone.

The first 5 minutes were terrifying. The buildup! The anticipation! Then…it’s here! Is he let down? Am I let down? Do I smell like pomegranate vodka? Or maybe just the right amount of perfume? Do I have lipgloss on my teeth? Am I missing teeth? I don’t know my ass from my face at this point.

On more than one occasion he reaches out and touches my hand as he’s telling a story, leaving it there just long enough so it’s clear that it’s on purpose. It’s cute. Our knees are touching, and his arm is around me. We both order Bulleit rocks, and both have two. We agree that we’re over the moon to be sitting next to one another.

I observe a few things about him. First, he used his hands to punctuate almost every sentence. Commas, semi-colons, periods -- the lot. Words were all formed into some sort of swooping gesture. It made watching him talk a show all its own. Everything about him was exaggerated, and his hands were no exception. His walk, while never hurried, was a bit of a saunter. He rode his heels hard, always leaning far back. He jogged up stairs. He ran around the front of the car to open my door.

I sneak off to the WC to send the “I’m ok! He’s not a serial killer!” text, which a few of you dear readers (and fellow writers) received. Sorry. It was a mass-text. I come back to the table and he suggests that instead of fighting the crowds for a table somewhere, we go back to his place where he’d bought a bottle of wine and some little snacks for us and we’ll throw on some records. Cute. My God, PERFECT. I agree. He pays the tab and we leave.

We hop into his car, a cute little dark green 4-door American made car that should not have an oversized spoiler on it, but does. Now this, friends, this is but one of the reasons I like this guy. There’s a great story for everything and such was the story behind the cute little sedan with insane spoiler (he lived in Alaska, it was the only trade-in besides the Expedition with good snow tires when he needed them).

It was spotless. There was a yoga mat in the backseat. Cute, considering he plays basketball 4 days a week. He was playing this song, which is an all-time favorite of mine and probably a surefire contender for the killer personalized mix he made me two weeks prior. We drove a couple of miles (the back way, which happens to be much longer than the front way – I guess he likes long drives? Cool.)

A small confession, that will take you, dear readers, back one night prior, to Friday: I had done what any right-minded woman would have done on a Friday night in a new city with a BFF. I explored. I also did some due-diligence. I couldn’t resist. He suggested some bars right in his neighborhood! Let’s just say I knew where his house was, and also what kind of car he drove. He did not have to tell me. I realize this is creepy, but it was 1AM and he would never know. Thank God for tinted windows.

Fast forward to present. We’re sitting in his (immaculate, clean, tasteful, artsy, art/music/architecture magazine-ridden) living room/kitchen listening to records.

He pulls out a great bottle of wine (apologies, 7 drinks in I’m obviously not observing varietals. It was red.), and asks if I might grab a couple of glasses from his impeccably organized and full-setted cabinent. I oblige as he slices a red anjou pear and a baguette and pulls some (spicy) hummus out of the fridge. Tasteful. Tasty. All organic.

He asks what I feel like, in terms of tempo: 80-120. Those of you who know records know this is like D’Angelo > Outkast. I give him an 85 – feeling mellow - and he puts on some Erikah Badu. Lovely. We discuss everything from A>Z. Work, faith, travel, his garden (!), cigarettes (he asks if he may have an American Spirit because he likes to unwind sometimes) – I affirm and ask if I may share it with him, the stars, music, art, Seattle, my friends, his friends.

I feel at home. I feel comfortable. He takes me on a tour. Upstairs is no different from downstairs except that it might have been even more stylish and composed. His own room is perfection, just enough masculinity, with small doses of style. Platform bed, Navajo printed wool blanket neatly folded at the base. Great art. Lots of literature. Great heavy curtains. A nice flatpanel TV mounted on the far wall. For, you know, watching basketball in HD.

I play some music that I’d intended to share with him. He likes it. We talk about Seattle’s music culture. He admits a longtime desire to relocate just a couple of hundred miles north and throws me a wink. Melt. I regretfully didn’t ask him to show me a thing or two on his decks, mostly because it would have been a fun opportunity to be close to him, but also because now I realize I’ll have to pay for lessons.

After a couple of hours he decides we should head downtown to this little spot for a show. After over 20 minutes of circling for parking we decide to bag it and grab a few beers while watching the ships come in. I like that he’s as spontaneous as I am. My nerves have finally started to subside. On our way to get beers, he decides instead that he wants to take me back uptown to a spot that he occasionally spins at – this Clockwork Orange-themed spot called Moloko Plus on Mississippi Ave, just a mile or so from his house. We stay to listen to a bit of his friend’s DJ set and for another drink (more bourbon), though I can’t finish mine so he does.

Unbeknownst to me, Portland has these amazing little parking lot after-hours eateries. Am I the last person on the planet to know about these little 2AM miracles? We find a great one by his house and mow down on some food (Poutine for him, onion and gruyere pizza for me. No wonder I didn’t get kissed? I sent him along with the leftovers.)

He gets a little sparkle in his baby blues as we’re eating and suggests we go take an adventure. I’m game. It is, after all, only 2:15AM. He says he’s having a fantastic time. And so am I. So we get back into his car, drive to his place, grab a half-bottle of bourbon he’d been “saving for a special occasion”, two to-go cups with ice (his idea – Klassy Kitty was fine with the bottle), a blanket and his yoga mat and bomb up into the West hills, right outside the city.

Winding and winding and more music and fog and laughing and joke telling and finally we arrive at “the bench” he said he’d wanted to take me to. The gate is open. We take it as a sign and trespass. Those of you who know me know I’ve been cited for this behavior in the past, though it doesn’t stop me. I like a little danger. And apparently, a lot of mud. At this point we’re happily, sloppily, gropingly, giddily slipping up the muddy incline.

The following clip was recorded by two very rebellious trespassers at 3:30AM on a foggy mountaintop parkbench in Portland after a lot of bourbon, music and hummus dip. Enjoy.

It all ended with a short tour through the Pearl: A homeless teen shelter he used to work at, a warehouse he sold illegal merchandise out of when working for Portland’s minor league baseball team. Stories of that one “best Summer ever” when he was a wee 23 and blew everything he had on a Blazers dancer. We arrive at my hotel around 4:30AM. He runs around to my side of the car and opens the door. I get out, shorter than last time, with my muddy flats on. He leans in…and gives me a hug. Our cheeks brush. We exchange sweet niceties. And hug a couple more times. Cheek kisses.

Now, I must remind you that the mind is a wicked, vile, tormentor when it's not getting what it wants. Every great and positive interaction can just as easily turn into an offense of the ego. But all of this talk about flirting, and spending most of the night touching has me wondering when it’s going to actually start.

I walk into the hotel, fluttering euphoria battling this creeping feeling of disappointment. Why didn’t he kiss me? Why didn’t he hold my hand? We have chemistry! That spark! It was there, you guys. I felt it. I’m pretty sure he did, too. He hovered long enough at the goodnight to make it only obvious.

So now. Now I’m beating myself up for letting the fact that he didn’t kiss me cloud what was, undoubtedly, the best date I’ve ever had with someone who is, unequivocally, one of the best people I’ve ever met.

Am I wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Nice To Meet You, Dude - KITTY

2010-01-15T11:10:00.000-08:00

I have, admittedly, wanted to blog on this site for quite some time now. Getting the courage up to do it? A whole different issue. And the opportunity? Sweet.

Hello, dear readers. I’m Kitty. Nice to meet you.

I suppose I should begin with a bit of background. After all, background is something I’m quite familiar with these days, what with all of the “about me” talk and … background checks. I cannot tell a lie. I even have an app for it on my phone. I’m not messing around, kiddos. I’m past the wasting-time-and-air-by-dating-ex-felons phase of my life.

Which is a nice transition into why I’m on Match.com. To say the least, 2009 was a whirlwind year for me. It began with me, newly single after a 3+ year relationship in which I overstayed my welcome, having a new lease on life and a jaded feeling about love. Really living the single life, if you know what I mean. I broke his heart. Was dealing with a great deal of guilt. And then I met him. That one – we’ve all had them – who swept me off my feet, surprised me because of everything he was that I didn’t realize I wanted or needed, charmed me and, after a couple of short months, caused me to claim lights out. I fell in love. It was the first time.

Fall is when we fell apart. I’ll spare you the extremely gorey details of how it ended, but to summarize: Almost a year after meeting, behavior that I can, still to this day, only describe as some sort of bipolar disorder that I was unaware of caused this man – my LIFE – to leave me crying and alone on a streetcorner on a cold and rainy Friday night. I know, I know. Spare me the drama. But you guys. It was dramatic. My world ended. All the memories of times together, and times apart, descended at once; filling my head beyond its brim. I was crushed. The scene replayed in my head over and over again, like a record that wouldn’t stop skipping. The eyes were still his, but the light behind them had gone out. I didn't know if I could replace the bulb, or how. He was alone and fighting a battle that only he could fight and I was alone with what felt like death gripping my chest as I watched him walk away.

Thank God for my friends (no fewer of whom are fellow contributors to this blog, and several of whom are also readers) who didn’t leave me by myself for more than a few minutes at a time for the entire period that I was rendered incapable of..well, existing. They even brought cookie dough and juice and magazines and nail polish and chocolate-chip-mint ice cream. I didn’t leave the house or my room for a good two months. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t sleeping. I had Aimee Mann’s “It’s over” and “Wise Up” and L.G’s “Speechless” on repeat. And so it goes, when you have your heart broken.

Fast forward to January 2010. I’d love to say that NYE felt like a new start for me. That the night itself brought a sense of renewed hope, a new start. It didn’t. As the ball dropped, Montel sang (long story - Andy, Abby, Georgina and Tucker all in attendance) I stood with two wonderful girlfriends, trying to hold back tears. It’s stupid, I know. He and I had talked about getting engaged on New Years Eve, so it wasn’t just me with the carry-on baggage -- even the stupid night itself carried emotional luggage. It always does.

I digress. And I promise, I’m not always this depressing.

I began playing around on Match with a fake login and profile, because, well, why not? It’s more fun that way. You can look but not touch. Window shop, and no one knows. You can even check the competition out without them knowing. It’s fun. My profile photo was a picture of Kim Jong Il with his shirt off. After some browsing, I was sold. There appeared to be some cool looking, quality, successful guys who, gasp, all love to go out but also have a quiet night in. Huh. They’re also all apparently looking for a hot, down to earth girl-next-door who can just as easily get dressed up as they can go for a hike on a misty Sunday morning. WOW! Whatever. I wrote a profile, deleted it, and wrote another one. No sooner than I hit the “publish” button, did I get a wink and an email from a 56-year-old “oil tycoon” (read: Works at Texaco) from Alaska. Where in my profile, pray tell, did you think that we’d be a good match for one another? I feverishly look for the “not interested” button, click it, then immediately feel guilty for shutting this poor, sweet, unassuming guy down. I mean, isn’t he on Match in the first place because he can’t get a date in real life? Couldn’t I just have ignored his email? He did, after all, reach out to me. I’m always complaining about how men in this city don’t even try, and here’s this nice guy who I have absolutely less than zero interest in, reaching out. Trying. And I shut him down. I haven’t used that feature since. The guilt was too much.

After a few days I have a handful of quality conversations going, and a few conversations going that I know won’t go anywhere. It’s fun. I’m a winking machine. It’s sucking up all of my free time. I’m meeting interesting people who (at least on paper) seem to have their lives together. I get asked out on my first date by someone who we’ll call Blowfish. More on that later.

Blowfish and I exchange phone numbers. This is awkward for me. Sometimes I don’t even give my number out to people I know. He texts, but not too much. He calls, and sounds cute on the phone. He also sounds really high. Curious? I give him a chance anyway, despite his suggestion that we get dinner at this “great little sushi restaurant in Beltown”. Cool. Which one, you may be asking? Ohana.

Yes.The same Ohana that has Jägermeister on tap. UGH.

I go anyway, on principle. This is my year to try new things. To date, not just jump into relationships like I always do. Dating requires at least trying. After some deliberation I decide to wear skinny black riding pants, studded cutout open-toe heels, a black ballerina top (fitted, deep back and scoopneck) and a lightweight black trench. I know, all black. It’s how I roll. I looked classy, but still sexy. But not trying-too-hard.

It’s my first in-person Match date. I’m proud of myself for even getting dressed, driving there, and not finding an excuse to cancel. The conversation is good. Not great. He has really excellent eye contact, but borders on stareorrist. This begins to get creepy after about 8 minutes. We order sushi. It’s excellent, but he keeps watching me eat.

Food to mouth, chew, chew, stare. It’s creepy.

I suggest we go to List, across the street, for late-night happy hour (and no more chewing). I really wanted a glass of wine, and the conversation wasn’t awful. He was really good looking – looked just like his photos. Maybe even better. I could roll with that, I decided.

And here’s where it starts to go downhill. He texts me from the bathroom (?) saying, “This place is tha sh*t!” Um. I finish my wine and suggest that yawn, boy, it’s getting late and it’s a school night. He offers to walk me to my car. Sweet, but unnecessary as at this point I’ve given no solid indications that I want a second date. We get to my car, about a block and a half away and he asks if I can drop him at his car. Thinking it’s several blocks away (parking can be tough in this particular neighborhood, as many of you know), I agree and we get in. As it turns out, his car is right around the corner.

Just wanting him to get out of my car at this point, I don’t even make small talk. I shuffle through my mental iTunes library for a song that reflects either “I actually really like women” and / or “I hate men and am angsty right now”. Indigo girls? Fiona Apple? Tori Amos? No, no, no. I land on Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good”, in hopes that he’ll get the point. He doesn’t. In fact…he goes in for a hug, but instead sneak-attacks from the right (smart!), and approaches me with what can only be described as a gaping, bottom feeding, rotating-tongue, open mouth kiss.

I’m paralyzed.

I pull back, put my hand on his chest, push him away with eyes wide and say, “Dude, too much tongue.”

Now, I have to press pause and preface for a brief second about how funny this situation really is. First, I’ve never experienced an approach quite like this. It’s a rare technique, only captured in the wild by National Geographic photographers. Second, I don’t use the word “Dude”. Third - and this is the clincher - he says, “Did you just call me Dude?”

Is that all you got out of that conversation? That I called you Dude?

I stall by staring at my feet with the I-feel-awkward-that-you-feel-awkward thing (I’m too nice) hoping he’ll just get out. He doesn’t. We engage in a wee bit more small talk, and after no less than 3 more prompts about how late it is, what an early morning I have and how tired I am, he finally gets the hint.

And just when I think it’s finally over, he tries it again!

Men. I beg of you. Kiss us. We love it. But please control your tongues, and please – PLEASE – if we pull away and give you a slight shove with our hand, don’t try to kiss us again. These are clear signals. Pay attention. I don’t want to have to use my rape whistle (I did bring one on the date – I like to think I’m prepared).

Just when I think there’s no possible way I’ll hear from him again…buzz. “I had such a fun time with you tonight. Can I see you next week?” No. Really? You think that went well? I don’t respond. Buzz. “By the way, those shoes were sexy.” Thanks?

I’ll keep this brief, as I realize this post has been long, but let it be said that he’s texted me at least every other day for the last week and a half, culminating with what appeared to be a drunk dial around 1:45AM this past Friday night. I haven’t heard from him since and am hoping that his embarrassment will prevent him from ever calling me again. God save the day I run into him somewhere…

So, I’m intrigued. And I’m about to drop a bomb on you. Three weeks in to Match, I’m going on my third date from the site. The third one will be a charm, I think. In about three hours I’m headed on a weekend trip with a girlfriend to Portland to meet for the first time a man who may or may not be one of the most fascinating, articulate and wonderful people I’ve ever met. Big statement, I know. But those of you who know the intimate details of my life are already aware of how special he really is. He spins soul hip hop (a surefire gateway to my heart). He knows Bonheoffer. Popcorn is his favorite food. His job is his cause. He has a huge heart and beautiful blue eyes. He is articulate. And funny. He plays basketball. And…he. Is. So. Into. Me.

I’m battling things: Expectations, fears that I won’t be who he thinks I really am. Do I wear heels? Do I order scotch or wine? Am I too blonde? He likes brunettes. We’ve burned through almost seven hours of phone time in the last week and a half, have exchanged no less than 15 lengthy emails and oh thank God for unlimited texting.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I have a crush. Stay tuned.

And another one bites the dust... - GEORGINA

2010-01-14T12:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, dear blog readers, I am resigning from eHarmony as well. I met a guy I really dig, who notices little things about me like when I change my nail polish color, remembers I like sour candy, and tells me I have a cute nose. :) You know…the important things.

I must confess that since the post I wrote about how I hadn’t been online in a week or more, I literally have gone on one time. And that was to close out most of my matches. I didn’t even look at any new ones! I’m pretty sure I had an uncommon experience with this whole online dating thing. Altogether, I went on 3 dates with 3 different guys. Number 2 was the winner. All within two weeks of actually signing up.

So, I’ll trail in Tucker’s footsteps and bid you adieu. I still want to post from time to time, but it obviously won’t be regarding dating! This honestly was a lot more fun than I thought it would be; it got me out of my “rut” I’d been stuck in, and gave me something else to concentrate on, other than work.

Additionally, I have had five friends tell me they were inspired to sign up for online dating! Three are on match.com and two are on eHarmony. As shocked as I was by this turn of events (almost as shocked as I was when I signed up myself), I really could not be more thrilled for them. Online dating is often kooky and always funny, and regardless of whether my friends meet anyone cool at all, I’m sure they’ll have plenty of stories!

Double your pleasure, double your fun - ANDY

2010-01-06T20:03:00.000-08:00

Well hello, dear readers. I know, long time no post. I’ve been busy with the holidays and work and blah blah blah. Also, let’s be honest, I haven’t really been jones’n to log on to ol’ match.com and see what gems await me, as I have been otherwise occupied with one particular Gem (yeah, capital G). That said…we are in no way “official” (to be jr. high about it), or exclusive, and haven’t DTR’d (barf), so I’ve forced myself to do what every other (quasi?) single lady would do: continue dating just for the hell of it. For the sake of efficiency (hey, I had a free night and a cute outfit, don’t hate) I went out with two guys…in one night. Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?

Numero Uno: I returned to what is quickly becoming my blind date spot (the wait staff probably thinks I am a serial dater, or worse...). It’s laid back, has great beer (a plus), and is within walking distance of my house (a must for the carless wonder that I am). My date (I’ll call him Mr. Nice) was waiting for me and we commenced what was a very nice date. He’s a good conversationalist, and a seemingly genuine guy. All that said, and as is evidenced by his name, there wasn’t a spark at all. Really NICE, just not for me.

Vital stats:

I wore: skinny jeans, menswear striped shirt, grey flats, and a fur coat for kicks ;)
He wore: a bad Ed Hardy-esque shirt (although he wasn’t the typical Ed Hardy wearer…you know who you are), jeans.
Location: Hilltop Alehouse
Random fact: he has a nose ring, which I actually like
Rate: 6 out of 10. But no, I won’t be going out with him again.

On to the next!

Fast forward two hours: I arrive at the Elysian in Tangletown (had to borrow the roommate’s car for this one, as well as explain where Tangletown actually was…). The Chef is waiting for me, and we hug upon arrival (NOT something I usually do. I’m not really a hugger of strangers). We start chatting and laughing and conversation is flowing… but again, I just wasn’t into it. Really great, good looking guy – and a chef no less! But…no dice.

Vital stats:

I wore: see above.
He wore: a nice Solomon zip up, good jeans
Location: Elysian
Random fact: he is a fan of Twilight (yeah, go swoon, Georgina)
Rate: 7 out of 10. …And no, I won’t be going out with him again.

I was supposed to have a phone date the other night (again, barf) but decided against it. I was forcing myself to make the call, which if you think about it, is a waste of his and my time. I’ll be honest – I have no desire to pursue anything with other men at this point.

So, until next time… or at least until someone else catches my eye.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu – TUCKER

2010-01-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

Hopefully some of you got the Sound of Music reference…

Alright. So I never thought I would end up writing this blog post…

But. . .

I am dating someone. That’s right. ME dating someone. And he isn’t from match.com or any other online dating website. He’s someone I have known for at least 12 years, we’ve dated before (7 years ago)…. and we’re trying again. 6’2” (that’s right ladies, he’s taller than me) and he makes me happy. He’s a wonderful human being, and he likes ME! We are embarking on the journey of long-distance dating… I know, I know… can you say difficult? But honestly, I’m so excited about this relationship. I love spending time with him (even if it’s on the phone… though, I may have to learn how to Skype), and in order to give this new relationship the chance it so rightly deserves… wait for it… I think I need to step back from the online dating world.

That’s right the 4321 experiment will now be known as the 3321 experiment, so please edit your favorites list on your browser of choice.

Juuuuust kidding. We’ve found a replacement! Another twenty-something lovely lady in the city who is exploring the world of online dating, and she’s already on match.com. And BOY does she have some amazing stories to share (get ready blog world). She is a dear friend to all of us, and can’t wait to share her exploits and adventures thus far.

Please help me in welcoming Kitty, the newest member of the 4321 experiment.

I’ve so enjoyed being one of the co-founders of this blog, but I’m excited to read about all the adventures ahead. So here’s Tucker, signing off.

Jawbreakers and Dealbreakers - GEORGINA

2010-01-06T11:54:00.000-08:00

I would like to bow to popular refrain and speak briefly to the subject of my Good Date – which has turned into many Good Dates. The skeptic has been reformed, at least for now. I’m not going to say too much; instead, I’ll say only that I’m greatly enjoying getting to know someone I would never normally have gotten a chance to know. And that’s really the whole point of this process, isn’t it? The coming into contact with strangers who would otherwise remain just that.

I’ve been thinking a lot, through this process of getting to know him, about deal breakers and what that entails. I thought bad grammar and spelling would be one of mine, but I shared that with my Good Date and he truly tries. Let me share with you some of my TRUE and HONEST TO GOD deal breakers.

1. Country Music. If you like twang, you AIN’T my thang. It’s not a rhyme that works, but surely you get my drift. I just don’t like it.

2. Men who try too hard. Guys, please, please, please do not wear an embroidered paisley French collared pearl buttoned striped button down shirt with True Religion jeans. You probably shouldn’t even know about True Religion jeans. Please do not use [too much] gel in your hair. Please do not talk incessantly about cars, money, your motorcycles, or working out/how many times you go to the gym. If you work out regularly that should be fairly evident based on your physique.

3. Intolerance. I hope that speaks for itself.

4. Lack of self-confidence. Let me tell you, men. Women LOVE a confident man, and yet there’s nothing more endearing than a confident man who is just a little nervous around a girl he likes.

5. Alternately, arrogance. Enough said? There is a thin line between confidence and arrogance, and we can smell that line a mile away.

6. “Cat allergies”, or a general dislike of cats. Most men who claim to be allergic to cats are just lying to themselves.

7. Trucks, especially those with monster wheels. I’m a fairly petite person, and there is nothing I dislike more than literally climbing up into the passenger seat.

8. Cheating. I know this should be a given, but ever since Tucker’s conversation with that weirdo, I thought I should probably make that clear. Cheating is never okay. Never.

9. Massages. I just want to ask: when did it become sexy to offer to massage the neck slash back of a girl you are into? Usually they’re not done right, and instead of feeling good it just feels awkward. Leave massages at the spa in the hands of professionals.

10. Costumes. I choose not to elaborate further.

What are some of your deal breakers?

Living the life I never thought I’d be living - TUCKER

2009-12-28T00:07:00.000-08:00

Ten years ago if you had asked me where I would be today, I never, ever would have said, “single. VERY single. Working as a nurse in Seattle. And again, VERY single.” The other night while waiting for a movie to start, a preview for another movie came on where the main character said, “I’m living the life I never thought I’d be living.” This phrase resonated with me throughout the movie and the following 48 hours. I’m not quite sure why. I just can’t stop thinking about it and what it means to me. I think this is a pretty accurate statement for me at this point in 2009. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy with how my life turned out. I love my life, I love being able to go out for a spontaneous drink with Abby on a Sunday night. I love being a nurse. I love that I’ve had the opportunity to travel to Europe, to spend a crazy New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, to live in far off places (the Midwest), to live the life of a single 27 year old.
If you had asked me ten years ago where I would be today, I would have probably said, “married by 21, baby by 24, followed by one every two years until I had four children”. WOW. As I read that statement now, it makes me laugh. My life could not be more different from that. The life I thought I wanted and what actually happened are so different from each other that I can’t even compare the two. Do I wish I got married at 21? I don’t know. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like.
While I see, one by one, my friends get married and have babies, I stand on the sidelines. But I really, truly believe that one day my time will come and all that I’ve experienced in the last ten years has helped to shape me into the best person I can be (beliefs pounded into me by my very supportive mother).
There’s that corny country song that says, “sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers”. And I have to admit, I think it’s pretty true. When I think about all the guys I thought it would work out with, all the guys I prayed it would work out with… and now I see what utter jerks (or DBs) those guys ended up being, I really do thank God for not answering those prayers.
While I really never thought I’d be living this life, I’m really happy I’m living this life. So here’s to the single life, because I think it’s pretty fantastic.

The Downside of Social Networking - ABBY

2009-12-23T11:29:00.000-08:00

I'm the self-proclaimed "Queen of the Internet." I am a huge fan of facebook. But sometimes all this social networking can work against me.

Like today, when the Southern Boy asked to be my friend. At first, I was excited, and realized I need to remove the link to this blog ASAP (and gently remind readers to refrain from mentioning it on my wall). Before I accepted him, I decided to take a little tour through his profile.

That's when I saw it. Right there under his name, birthday, hometown, and religion.

Political Views: Republican

And not just that, his "About Me" section reads: "I will bleed on the flag to keep the stripes red."

As the one liberal author of this blog, I am used to living in "a house divided." But, contrary to what Tucker said, this is not like a Cougar being married to a Husky.

So now, I'm torn. It's not a TOTAL dealbreaker, I will go out with him a second time. Maybe we could have a really romantic healthcare debate. Maybe.

Not sure how Dr. Neil let this one slip through. But thanks, Mark Zuckerberg, for keeping me in the know.

Bad Romance. Literally. - Andy

2009-12-22T14:47:00.000-08:00

Way to go, Georgina! I knew you had it in you. (For the record, folks, we DID get into an all out battle about politely ending a “relationship.” And again, for the record, I don’t follow my own rules every time.) I commend G on her resolve to face the beast and politely decline the Rude Canadian. That said, do I have a story of my own for all ya’ll.

Remember the Englishman (who was not even English)? 8 out of 10? Good hair guy?

We went on a couple dates (read: two), both of which were fun, relatively speaking. If you remember, he is younger, which is not to say he is immature. He actually surprised me with (what I thought was) emotional maturity. After the initial attraction (hello Hugh Jackman meets Luke Wilson), my interest started fading…at a rather impressive rate. I will say that I was kind of flattered by the massive quantities of texts and calls…at first. But you can only open your phone to see “I really like u” and “u are so beautiful” so many times from a relative stranger (on top of nightly calls, which I began to ignore). A relative stranger you’re not really into. A relative stranger you’ve only gone out with two times. Can you say SMOTHER*?

Add that up with a couple other random details that just weren’t my cup of tea, and I was ready to let this kid go. I was worried how he would take it because he seemed to think we were full-on dating (I have no idea why he jumped to this conclusion). After some deliberation, I decided to take the (some would say not so) high road, and text him. The text was kind, to the point, and honest (along the lines of “I just don’t see this going further”).

I breathed a sigh of relief…which lasted about 3 seconds, at which time I receive a barrage of text messages, including but not limited to: “can I call u”, “I really like u,” “I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.” So on, and so forth. I begrudgingly talked to him later that evening, explaining my feelings as best I could (you can only say “I’m just not that into you” so many ways). As I was grappling for something to tell this guy, I mentioned a few fundamental differences between the two of us. One such difference is the fact that he boasts intense disdain for Christianity and organized religion/faith groups in general, something I would consider an active, evolving part of my life. We ended the conversation with polite “good luck”s, and once again, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Fast forward 24 hours: Without going into too much detail, I received a sudden series of novel-length text messages, berating me for my mention of faith and what he called “ironic Christian judgment.” Apparently, he is “more Christian than 99% of the Christians out there.” Since when are we comparing? Had I ever mentioned surrounding myself with ONLY the most holy of Bible thumpers? NO. He compared my choice of being with someone who at least tolerates (and hopefully supports) my faith journey (thus, the not dating him part) to his hypothetical choice to “not date a black woman cuz she is black.” Can I get a WTF?

I politely, and then, subsequently, not so politely, responded. And then, after some defensive (and even more offensive) texts back, I didn’t say another word. He doesn’t deserve an explanation from me, especially if he is going to be a small, ignorant, pathetic, rude little manboy about it. I haven’t heard from him since (thank God).

I’ll be happy if that’s my only brush with the crazies during my tenure on Match.com.

On a much happier note, things are going splendidly with the Best Date Ever…and that’s all you’re getting. :)

*I realize women are constantly saying men should shower them with affection and sweet words, but come on…this was too much!

P.S. - GEORGINA

2009-12-22T12:20:00.000-08:00

For those of you who are wondering, what’s NOT to like about online dating!?

Think about it. What is every girls’ biggest wish when it comes to men and dating? If you’re anything like me, it is simply that you have the ability to walk into a bar or church or a restaurant or a bookstore or wherever and be able to identify clearly which men (or women, if you’re so inclined) are compatible to you.

RIGHT?

Ladies and Gents, that’s what we have here. Sometimes the odd (literal and figurative) man gets thrown into the mix, and we gently hit “Close” in order to not be selfish and pass him along to the next girl. One person’s trash is another one’s treasure, isn’t that how the saying goes?

But really, that’s exactly what eHarmony allows you to see and experience: man after man who, in some way or another, “matches” some part of your personality. I’m telling you, I think it’s kind of fun.

We talk a lot about our dating experiences and what’s going on in our daily lives. I just wanted to let anyone who is out there reading and wondering if it is for you, why not give it a try? I was the BIGGEST skeptic when it came to eHarmony. If I can enjoy it and if Abby can enjoy it...chances are you will, too.

After all, I’ve gotten a few free meals, some coffee, and more alcohol than my liver probably needs out of the deal.

Win/Win.

Personal Success Story - GEORGINA

2009-12-22T12:06:00.000-08:00

Remember how I admitted to everyone I was the Faze Out Girl? Not my proudest moment. However. I can finally tip my hat proudly and say I am no longer “that girl”!

Here is what happened: the Rude Canadian kindly left me alone for 4 days after I told him my friends were in town until Monday. Promptly Monday night I received a text message from him, asking how was my time with my guests. I answered, “Good, they’re still here, actually.” He responded, “Do you have any time to get together tomorrow?”

First of all. Let’s just be clear. I don’t respond well to any sort of comment or question that seems at all defensive. I automatically get defensive back and say things I probably should not.

So, I respond, with my guard up: “I don’t, actually…sorry!” He waits a few minutes and then sends back, “Well, should I even bother to keep asking?”

Second of all. That’s just not necessary. He had asked me out ONCE before and I couldn’t hang out because I had friends in town. No matter how much I did not want to see him again, you can’t automatically jump to that extreme of a reaction the second time a girl says she can’t hang out, because truthfully I did have plans. PLUS, Christmas time is already busy enough.

There I sat, literally in the place of our first date, and debated what to send back. I figured I had 3 options.
Option A: I could ignore him and just not respond. That is what I probably would have done in the past.
Option B: I could slightly lie and say I had a boyfriend. However…I reasoned this excuse would not work quite right because I had had breakfast with him barely two weeks prior and I hadn’t said anything about a boyfriend or seeing anyone else.
Option C: I could take the high road and be honest and simply say I was not interested. Which is exactly what I did.

My text back read thusly: “It might be better just to leave it at what it was…sorry to do this over text. It was great to meet you though.” He responded simply, “No worries. Thanks for the honesty.”

PHEW! My first attempt at the graceful let down went more smoothly than I anticipated. Not that I expected anything dramatic; I don’t really know what I expected. But I do know from now on, from this point forward, that I will always be honest and truthful in these kinds of situations. I wonder why I never did this before, I actually feel pretty good.

I’ll let him just draw his own conclusions about what turned me off. I’m sure he would never guess it was because he was rude to the waitress.

2 Dates in 2 Days - ABBY

2009-12-22T10:54:00.000-08:00

It's an interesting thing, going on dates back-to-back. It reminds me of a of Saved by the Bell episode where Kelly had to go on dates with 2 different guys at the same time. Also, the Hannah Montana Movie where she does a similar thing (yes, I've seen The Hannah Montana Movie.).

But my weekend didn't involve wigs and there were a good 36 hours between dates. Here are the deets:

Date #1:

Coffee at Cafe Ladro on Queen Anne with The Traveler (he just got back from a 3-week trip in China). I walked up from my house, and he was waiting for me when I got there. He gave me a hug and asked if he could get me a coffee. After being quizzed the night before by friends about what I was going to order (a MoGlo? A bran muffin?) I decided on a latte. He had drip coffee.

There was lots to talk about--his trip, our (shared) neighborhood, jobs, families, etc. There were only 1 or 2 breaks in the conversation longer than a few seconds. He's really nice, smart, easy to talk to. He said he'd like to hang out again, and I would too. Much to my friend's disappointment, I wasn't necessarily "giddy" or full of details after the date. I had a good time, but it wasn't like I was sitting around waiting for my phone to ring. I tend to think that's just not my style, but I'm also open to the possibility that it will be my style when the "right one" comes along. So we'll see.

Vital Stats:
I wore: Skinny jeans, brown boots, and my new black chunky knit sweater
He wore: Jeans, a white/navy long-sleeve tee
Random fact: He's the oldest guy I've ever gone on a date with (32)
Second date possibility: Definitely. We've been e-mailing a bit, and he wanted to hang out this week, but with Christmas 4 days away (what?!) it didn't work out.
Overall score: 7?

Date #2:

Beer at Hilltop Alehouse with The Southern Boy. Yes ladies, he has an accent (swoon, away). I got there just a minute or two before him, and I was pleasantly surprised that he was cuter than his eHarm pictures. He was easy to talk to, right from the get-go and the conversation was comfortable and easy the whole time.

He comes from a big family, owns a house, has an interesting job (although probably the polar opposite from my own), and seems like a generally "nice" guy. He did all the right things--paid, opened doors, walked me to my car. It felt a little more comfortable than Date #1, although, this might have had something to do with the fact that I was drinking a Pilsner, not a double-shot latte.

Vital Stats:
I wore: See Date #1 (I wore the same outfit)
He wore: Jeans, a long-sleeved white shirt with a grey tee over it
Random fact: During the hour and half we spent together, we realized we've been in the same place at the same time more than once.
Second date possibility: Totally. He texted me a few hours after the date saying he had a great time, and I think we'll plan something for after the Holidays.
Overall Score: 8

Overall, I'm not head-over-heels for either guy (yet) but my first 2 online dating experiences were positive, and that's saying something. I was talking with a friend this morning about how weird dating really is. We meet a total stranger and make small talk for a couple hours to see if we're "compatible." It's amazing how 2 hours of judging each other can actually be fun sometimes.

To everything, turn, turn, turn - TUCKER

2009-12-20T10:19:00.000-08:00

My theory: if a guy says he’s 5’10”, he’s really 5’8” and if he says he’s 6’5”, he’s really, really tall. Much to Andy’s chagrin, I have a height restriction. Call me petty, call me picky, I don’t think it’s too much to ask to be able to date a guy that I don’t have to look down at to look him in the eye. I come from a family of tall ones, and I’m fairly certain that if I did bring a short guy into the mix he’d feel like he was amongst the land of the jolly green giants. So really, I’m doing it for the shorty’s own good (I’m a glass half full kind of person).
Regardless, I went out on date No. 1 this week. And my response isn’t one of pure delight, or pure disgust, it can be summed up in one quick syllable: eh. That’s right, eh.
Nice guy IM’ed me on match.com, I responded. We chatted, seemed like a decent guy (read: not a serial killer), he asked me out for coffee, I accepted. We exchanged phone numbers, and thus began the text dance. As you may know, I’m not fond of the texting when I haven’t even heard the person’s voice… but these texts were fairly benign. More like, “how’s your day?” and less like, “what’s your philosophy on life?” We postponed the date once because I got a cold, and the date was scheduled during the time period where I was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe through my nose… and you can’t really put your best foot forward when you are a total mouth breather.
We made it to coffee. And my theory was proved right, while he said he was 5’10”, he clearly was not. I mean, I know online dating profiles are an area of life where you embellish… but I just wish you couldn’t embellish your height, us tall girls (or maybe it’s just me) have height limits.
But I powered on, and coffee was nice. He bought me a latte, he got an Americano. And we chatted for a little less than an hour and a half.
I have to say, I CANNOT stand coffee dates.
First, there are people all around you sitting alone, reading, studying, LISTENING TO EVERY WORD YOU SAY while you are on this awkward, obviously blind date.
While I don’t mind stating to the blog readers of the world that I am doing online dating, I don’t really want to share that fact or my first in person meeting with the people at the next table. Secondly, people are coming and going, so it gets loud, kids are running around like crazy, and some come up and start talking to you (true story). Thirdly, I’m already jittery enough, and the caffeine consumed at a coffee date doesn’t help, I think a single alcoholic drink may do the trick to help me relax. Anyways, he was nice. Everyone keeps wanting all the details, and there really aren’t many to share. He is a nice guy, I enjoyed talking with him, but I’m pretty sure there was no romantic feeling for either of us. And thus ended date No 1. I’ll probably never hear from him again… and that’s ok. It’s a bummer to not have some crazy date to share with you readers, but I feel like my date is a much more typical date. Guy meets girl, guy’s nice, girl’s nice… but no chemistry.

And the world keeps turning.

Vital Stats:
I wore: skinny jeans, tucked into my new camel leather boots, a grey sleeveless blouse (way cuter than I can describe here) topped with a black long sweater.
He wore: jeans, a grey blue long sleeve shirt with a Northface jacket over it (which he never took off?).
Random fact: He’s from South America.
Second date possibility: not on my side.
Overall score: 7 in conversation, 3 in date-ability.

Confessions of a (not very good) dater - GEORGINA

2009-12-17T16:01:00.000-08:00

This is my confession (oh hey Usher): I have not physically logged on to eHarmony in over a week. I feel guilty about this, I honestly do. I just have ZERO motivation. I know I am being rude to the (few) guys who are waiting for a reply back. And…I’m maybe being rude to the guy who texted me a few days ago to get together and whom I never texted back. Oops.

And maybe I’m leading the rude Canadian on by agreeing to go see a movie with him next week…when I have absolutely no intention of following through.

See, I’m very much the “faze out” girl. Yes, I am that girl. Andy and I have actually gotten in a shouting match (in the bathroom) over my faze out tactics (she thinks it’s rude. I happen to agree with her, but just not to the point where I’ll actually confront it).

Worst. eHarmony. Client. Ever.

Let me try to make this a little better for myself. I WILL go on eHarmony in the next few days to catch up on my matches. Do not worry, little readers. I’m not, as Tucker said to me, putting all my eggs in one basket. I guess I’m just catching up with Andy’s case of the 9-5s. How many more first dates can I take? I’m starting to bore myself with repetitions of the same old information (name, age, job/career, what I do for fun…). Next date I go on (addendum: the next date that I see no future 2nd date possibility with) I might spice it up a little by making up some creative and entertaining (for myself) information.

Feel free to leave comments with any amusing and imaginative suggestions you may have. I’m thinking childhood in the circus type stuff.

Maybe you’d like an update on my old dates?
Date #1 (undisclosed and insecure divorced guy): never called me. Mayyybe he could tell I was not interested when I said I was sick and bailed? To my credit, I WAS sick. But I probably could have held out a little longer.
Date #2 (the goooooood one): we’re going out this weekend. :) :) :)
Date #3 (the rude Canadian): he keeps calling and texting me. He wanted to see a movie this weekend; I said I had friends coming into town (true story). He granted that was fair (thanks so much), and said we would go out early next week, instead. Not if I can help it.

I’m slowly realizing that while this whole online dating thing may be kind of a game to me, it’s probably not to most of the guys who are communicating with me. It’s fair to say that most of the men who are on eHarmony really do want to find a girl to settle down with and get married. I said to one of the guys I went out with, that I could get married tomorrow (if I found the right person) or I could get married when I was 75 and be perfectly content for the time I was still single. What is most important to me is to be happy. Point being, I’m just not in this huge rush to the alter. Life will be lived and will go on regardless of whether I’m married or single. But for me and the sake of this experiment, it’s probably not fair to communicate with a guy I realllllly do not ever see being in to, simply for the sake of writing about it. Is that bad?

Slash, it will diminish the number of faze outs I actually have to orchestrate. And that’s always a plus.

Lagging Behind - ABBY

2009-12-16T23:44:00.000-08:00

Everyone keeps reminding me that I haven't posted in awhile. It is December, people, which means the busiest time in my personal AND professional life. It's been hard to find time for my dating life.

But as the youngest of the group, I'm used to being a bit behind than the rest. I have 2 dates lined up for this weekend, so that should create some juicy blog material. Unfortunately, both of them are "day dates" which are not my favorite. Oh well...so goes December.

I have been saving something for you though...THE MODEL. I got matched with a guy last week who's occupation is "model." A refreshing change from "military" and "IT analyst," I must say. There are a few interesting things about this guy, which I will outline below:

1. He feels the need to remind me about 7 times in his profile of his occupation, but unfortunately he spells it "modle" each time.

2. He's not cute. Perhaps he's a hand modle?

3. He's most passionate about "living life 2 the fullest."

4. One of the 5 things he can't live without is Abercrombie.

5. He's most thankful that his parents are still together after 23 years (he's 24).

6. Direct quote: "Even though I modle im varey educated on current events, politics and law." (You can't MAKE this stuff up!)

7. One of his pictures is a dance party at his apartment (?) with 2 scantily-clad girls in the foreground. The "modle" is nowhere to be seen. I'm assuming he just wants the girls on eHarm to know that they would be welcome at his place in a sheer dress and/or leopard print mini skirt?

8. One of his pictures features him topless wearing khaki cargo shorts and a cowboy hat (of course). The caption reads "Figured id give u a full body shot :)" Oh really? I figured you were a TOOL.

THIS is the sea I am wading in. Just wanted to give you all the full picture.

But really, I am excited about my dates this weekend. As long as they don't show up wearing an Abercrombie-emblazoned hoodie, they should score some points in my book.

A Tale of Two - ANDY & GEORGINA

2009-12-14T13:13:00.000-08:00

Those of you who know us are aware of our rampant BFF status. 17 (plus) years, and going strong. As children, we had several versions of the two halves of a heart necklaces (one that involved a frog…). We finish each others sentences daily. We are completely, 100%, for better or worse, no holds barred, absolutely ourselves with each other. We’ve been referred to as “the old married couple” on more than one occasion (by none other than our mothers). That said, it is fair to say that our preferences when it comes to men are…different. Polar opposite even. Which, really, is great for us as we’ve never overlapped men (okay, maybe just once).

That’s one reason, when we found out what will be revealed in the following bit, we were shocked – blown away. Stunned. We were floored simply because of the sheer impossibility of it.

Through a weird, and absolutely random, series of events it has been discovered that Georgina’s Awesome First Date and Andy’s Best Date Ever are best friends. Like buddies. We’re talking frequent ManDates here. BFFs, if you will.

Let the incredulous gasps ensue.

Might we remind you that we are on different dating sites, as are the men (duh), and we both initiated communication (Andy winked, Georgina sent questions). So put away the thought (Mother), that they somehow pinpointed us and are performing their own kind of weird experiment.

To be honest, we’re not quite sure how to grasp this. It feels…rigged. But it’s not, unless we’re dealing with very clear evidence of destiny vs. free will (and who wants to have that debate now).

You don’t have to read between the lines to know that this pair of best friends are crushing on that pair of best friends. Andy has seen her man a few times since their date on Wednesday, whereas Georgina has date #2 all lined up for this coming Friday. Cross your fingers, rub a rabbit’s foot, or say a prayer. We need it!

eHarmony: Date Three - GEORGINA

2009-12-12T18:50:00.000-08:00

I’m not exactly sure how to address the date I went on this morning. So, I’m just going to plunge in.

We met at the 5 Spot on top of Queen Anne. While I was getting ready, I received a text message from him, saying: “I have a bad memory. Did we say the 5 Spot?” Hm. Okay. We talked roughly 15 hours ago. I answer yes, and say I’ll see him at 12:30.

I decide to brave the elements and walk up to meet him. I walk into the restaurant; he’s standing in the front and greets me with a hug, saying he just got a table. My first impression of him is that he’s tall and very good looking. My second impression, as we sit, is that this is going to be awkward. He won’t meet my eyes, and it takes about a full five minutes before we even start talking and having a conversation.

After those initial five minutes, however…let’s just say he shared a lot of information with me. As in he carried the conversation. As in...he didn’t stop talking about himself – ever. I believe four questions were even directed at me. And I’m not someone who likes to jump in and talk about my personal experiences or opinions with people I don’t know, so I spent most of that time just responding to the things he was saying. I’m not trying to be rude, but I kind of started zoning him out after a while. To the point where he literally asked me a question (one of the four) about something he had said and I literally sat there and stared at him, because I had NO IDEA what he had been talking about.

Is it bad to say all I could think about was my date from Tuesday?!

The point in the date where I began to just start laughing silently to myself about how I WISH someone was videotaping what I was going through, was when the waitress set down [his] Visa card in front of me. He looks at me, raises an eyebrow, and then says to the waitress, “Does she LOOK like a [Joe]?” (Name changed)

Sadly…that was not the first degrading or rude comment he made to the wait staff. Let me highlight the best lines for your reading enjoyment.

[He ordered the Grand Slam with sausage. When his meal came, it was with bacon.] “Could I get sausage, please? That IS what I ordered.”
[After the waitress had re-filled our coffee cups for the third time...pretty standard, I’d say,] “Did you really have to re-fill our coffee a thousand times?”
[When the waitress didn’t come with the check promptly enough,] “I take it speed isn’t really your thing?”

Additionally, this guy actually prayed before our meal. And told me he was looking for “a nice Christian girl who knows how to party”. Examples A-Z of what I’m NOT looking for.

Vital Stats
I wore: skinny jeans tucked into knee high black boots and a plaid shirt. For a coat, I wore a camel colored pea coat.

He wore: Jeans, a t-shirt with a hoodie over it. And a blingin’ watch.

Random Fact: He’s rude to waitresses.

Second date possibility: According to him, he did say he wants to hang out again. And he already texted me, EVEN THOUGH HE KNEW I HAD PLANS, and asked me to see a movie tonight: “Too bad you have plans, I was going to ask you to see that new Matt Damon movie with me” (direct text quote). Thank God for small mercies. According to me…ugh.

Overall Score:I don’t want to be mean, but I just did not have a good time. I just cannot see myself being with someone like that. Ever.

Match Date #2 - ANDY

2009-12-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned earlier, when it comes to match, I’m a winking machine. If match winking was a sport, I’d be Michael Phelps, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. (Wait, I haven’t brought home ONE gold yet, much less fourteen. Nevermind, bad analogy.) If I see a guy and think his profile is remotely intriguing, I hit that wink button. Sometimes this leads to said man winking back (kind of passive) or emailing me (much preferred). Obviously, many of these emails lead to….the middle of nowhere. But some are great, a quick, charming ray of sunshine in an oftentimes boring day.

In the middle of last week, I wink at this (AAADORABLE) guy and wait with baited breath for him to respond. I check my email every five minutes for a notification from match.com. Nothing.

Later that day (FINALLY), my phone vibrates.
New Message. From HIM. YEEESSSS.

It’s a great email, full of jokes (one about his gratuitous use of emoticons. Hilarious.), a few compliments (merci), and some great questions. I wait the obligatory couple hours, and respond with, if I do say so myself, some of my best work. :)

We end up chatting online, and he asks if I am free that very day (bestillmyheart). Why yes, I am. I quickly shoot Georgina and email, asking if the outfit I’m wearing (see Stats below) is too…crazy? We ultimately decide that no, it’s not; if you’re into me, you’re into crazy.

I meet him post-work in the Market, he has ordered a bottle of wine (points). He is, I think, SO HANDSOME. We proceed to talk and laugh and eat and drink…for the next five hours. Yes, ladies and gentleman (I’m talking to you, Abby’s dad), it was...

The.
Best.
Date.
I’ve.
Ever.
Had.

Vital Stats:
I wore: black (Georgina says I have to specify pleather) leggings, a black long-sleeved mini-dress (complete with 80s style shoulder pads, WHICH he commented on. He liked ‘em.), and my new capelet. Apparently, it brings good luck.
He wore: dark jeans, v-neck sweater, and button-up. And he has GOOD hair.
Random fact: at one point, we talked pretty extensively about the Olive Garden.
Location: Il Bistro
Overall Score: see above. 10, duh. So much for no pressure.

We’re going out again. EEEEEEK! :)

The Dealbreaker - TUCKER

2009-12-12T14:49:00.001-08:00

First of all, I have to agree with Andy and her post regarding the sheer exhaustion of online dating after working a 9 hour day. Once I get home from my various evening plans, the absolute last thing I want to do is go on my computer and look at the guys who are trying to communicate with me. Because BELIEVE me there are some doozies out there.
Doozy of the week:
This sweet guy sent me a message, and said all the right things. He wrote me about his amazing job (showing his stability), his volunteer work with kids (showing how he cares about others), how much he loves his family (score in my book), and asked me questions about myself (showing that he isn’t completely self involved). Seems fairly normal, right? WRONG. Oh so VERY wrong. He also asked for my phone number, and I thought, “oh what the heck” and gave it to him. He proceeded to text me every day for a week, which doesn’t seem horrible, because we were just getting to know each other… until he started texting me questions that are not what I call “text friendly”. Exhibit a) “what made you go into your specialty in nursing?” Exhibit B) “what type of things do you do for fun?” At this point I’m screaming at my phone, “JUST CALL ME!” I do realize I could have taken the initiative to call him, but let’s be honest, I just didn’t want to.
So FINALLY 7 days later, he called me. But I was working, and he didn’t leave a message. So I called him back, and he didn’t answer, but I did leave a message. Then he called me back--- I’ll stop here, but believe me, this went on ALL night. A full twenty four hours later we finally talked on the phone. We talked for TWO hours. Everything was going well, very nice guy, great phone skills, asked me all sorts of questions, answered my questions and even had witty answers. Then he mentioned how he and some friends send emails regarding current events in sports. I asked if Tiger Woods had been a topic of conversation this week, because I mean COME ON, it’s the story of the week. He chuckled and said yes… and he proceeded, out of the blue, to tell me this story basically demonstrating his thoughts on cheating.
“So I was dating this girl in college, and we were perfect for each other. Totally best friends, it was the best relationship. Then one night I was out at the bar without her and found myself flirting with all these girls, and I knew where this was headed and knew it was not going to end well.” OK, well at this point I thought, “well great, at least he’s self aware and knows when he’s about to cross the line”. But then he continues… “So I left the bar and went and broke up with my girlfriend. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I was crying, she was crying. And she said, ‘you can’t break up with me because of “what if” you cheat on me!’” And blog readers, he responded to his sobbing girlfriend, “it’s not a ‘what if’ I cheat on you, it’s a ‘when’ because it will happen.”
SERIOUSLY?!?!?
So basically he broke up with his girlfriend so that he could go hook up with other chicks. And he’s telling this story to someone he potentially would like to date? DEALBREAKER.
Did I mention that he prefaced this story with, “well this might ruin everything, but whatever”. Probably should’ve listened to that little inner voice, dude. Unfortunately this does not sound like someone I would like to get to know better or date… and get dumped by in two months, because he just “knows” he’s going to cheat on me. Did I also mention that he’s divorced? He failed to mention any of the details of that relationship…
Apparently he’s a firm believer of “the grass is always greener on the other side.” While I’m a firm believer that we are never going out.
Aaaaaaand I’m back at square one.

On a side note, the four of us would LOVE to hear any thoughts, comments or questions you may have.

Put your hands up... - GEORGINA

2009-12-12T11:32:00.000-08:00

Let’s talk about making plans and following through…a girl’s favorite subject, right? I’m sure I’m not alone in the frustration that comes from a guy calling to ask you out…..with nothing definite in mind about what to do or where to go.

Okay, okay. I’m sure I’ll get my hands slapped for saying that. I know there are many guys who want to do what the girl wants to do and so are polite enough to not assume but instead ask her opinion. That is great.

However.

I prefer not to have phone conversations that go like the following.
Him: Hey, so I was thinking about noon or 1pm on Saturday? Would that work for you?
Me: Yeah that would work great. What were you thinking of doing?
Him: [silence, then]….oh. I guess I should have thought that far ahead. Can I call you back on Friday when I’ve brainstormed something to do?
Me: …yep. That would be fine.

And that would have been fine, except that the follow up phone call on Friday went something like, "I'm still pretty new to the area, so is there any place you'd like to go?" Didn't he tell me he'd think of something??

Is it just me or would that bug you too? Sometimes I do like suggesting cool, new places that open up. I like being “in the know” about new restaurants (even though, let’s be honest, I usually find about them through a friend). But it still scores major points when a guy takes the time to call you on the phone and has a definite plan in mind, or at the very least a few suggestions.

So, off I go to date #3 with the Canadian (no flag picture this time) - to a lunch date I suggested, following the wise wisdom of Dr. Neil Clark Warren (who suggests lunch dates as first dates because they're low pressure and in broad daylight).

Deets to come!

eHarmony: Date Two (Guy #2) - GEORGINA

2009-12-09T22:34:00.000-08:00

Well…it was a good one.

I’m sitting there, last night, thinking I don’t want to give this guy a chance because I didn’t sit down in front of him and IMMEDIATELY think, “Wow, he’s the One.” I do immediately think, however, “Wow, this guy is cute.” And he gets cuter the more we talk and the more I found out how much we have in common.

Dr. NCW did a good job on this one.

And…that’s all I’ll say right now. Stay tuned for a (hoped for) repeat performance.

It did make me think, though, about the idea of “the One”. I've never believed in the idea of "the One" and never believed that there was only one other person out there in the world for me. That just seemed pretty hopeless to me. I'd much rather prefer to think that there were many men, that based on circumstances or timing, that I would be able to make a good and happy life with. My mother has always said that she knew on the first date with my dad that he was the one and that she was going to marry him. It’s pretty clear to me now that that statement has resonated with me all these years, and that I have initially (and to be honest, harshly) written off guys simply because I did not feel an instantaneous spark.

The Stats:

I wore: black skinny jeans, light blue button up, a black and white striped cardigan. Over it I wore [Andy’s new] black capelet, and black booties.

He wore: jeans and a black v-neck sweater, with a dark gray wool peacoat.

Random facts: He’s a fan of Les Parrott.

Second date possibility: YES. At least….I hope. He mentioned several times how we had to get together again and that he would call me. So we’ll see.

Overall score: I was extremely and pleasantly surprised at how good of a time I had. The time flew by, we never ran out of things to talk about, and I spent a lot of time laughing. We covered every major subject, from childhood upbringing, to religion, to politics, and beyond. I would say, as far as first dates go, it was probably a good 8 out of 10. And if you know me…you know that means something!

Saturday I go on eHarmony Date Number Three, with Guy Number Three. And yes, it's the Canadian this time.

Keeping You Posted - ABBY

2009-12-06T22:53:00.000-08:00

Well, hello again. There's not a lot to report...still no dates. But trust me, I'm trying. My matches get delivered to my inbox around 2:30am. So each morning after my alarm goes off, I sit up and hope for something good while the glow of my MacBook wakes me up. On a good day, I get 10 matches and only close 9 of them.

Now, before you accuse me of being "picky," I would like to give you a taste of what I'm working with here.

Exhibit A: The question is "what is the last book you read and enjoyed?" His answer: "n/a." Am I supposed to take that to mean you're illiterate? Or just not a big fan of the printed word?

Exhibit B: "I like spongebob. I can't help it. That show is great. It is so crazy it's right on my level."

Exhibit C: Occupation: "I work at McDonald's lol." Is that a joke?

I am in some level of communication with 10 guys right now. A few of them seem great, they are just verrrrry slow at responding, even if they are the ones who initiate the conversation. This is hard for me to understand in the world of iphones and free wireless internet. Do we need an eHarmony app? Ironically, the guy I am communicating with the most is still out of the country.

So I'll keep waiting. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll wake up to the match of my life (the one who's a great communicator, open to new ideas and places, makes me laugh, and most importantly, e-mails me back the same day).

eHarmony: Date One (and one fail) - GEORGINA

2009-12-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

On Thursday I made two dates for this weekend: one for Saturday night and one for Sunday afternoon. On Friday I got the flu; I emailed my Saturday date and explained the situation, asking if we could reschedule. No response. On Saturday I had a very important appointment with my hairdresser, and so did my best to pull myself together. On my way back home that afternoon I texted my date. This was our text log:

Me, 3:30pm: Hey, did you get my email yesterday about meeting tonight?
Him, 3:32pm: Nope. Will 8 o clock not work for u?
Me, 3:35pm: No, sorry! Can we reschedule?
Him: [no response]

Soooo...that was that.

Sunday. Still feeling sick. Meeting Guy #2 in Kirkland. I put on makeup for the first time in days and rolled out. I was a little late, mostly because I was dawdling crossing 520 singing Christmas songs to myself. I finally reached Kirkland, just about five minutes past 1pm, when we were supposed to meet. I ran into Caffe Ladro, made a quick scan of the available chairs and came to the obvious conclusion that my blind date was not there yet. I ordered a tea and went to the one available chair to wait. Five minutes went by. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. I kept checking my phone and texting my friends: He's not here yet! I want to leave. I was too preoccupied texting and reading latest breaking news on my Blackberry to notice when a tall man walked in. I saw someone out of the corner of my eye, but he was wearing a beanie, so I couldn't tell if this was my guy, and I didn't want to crane my neck to check him out. Finally my phone rang. I answered it, but noticed this guy was standing right next to me, grinning in my face. He waved his phone at me and said, "I thought that was you!" Then gave me a huge hug.

Fine. Not a big deal. He was nice and easy to talk to, and not bad looking. He also was wearing a great watch. We walked from the coffee shop across the street to a pub because he was hungry. Although I didn't want to eat, he assured me I could nibble off his plate. No thank you.

Things he revealed during our hour and half together:

He's been married before. Which he apologized profusely for not telling me. And I kept having to say "no, it's totally ok. No I'm serious. It's ok."
He hasn't traveled - much - but did say his ideal travel spot was an imaginary resort in Alaska.
He burped, then said his confidence was shot for the rest of the day. He was serious.
He doesn't like cats. Then refuted that statement the minute I said I liked them and had one.

At the end of the date I was just not interested. Listen, I'm looking for a man who will debate WITH me, not agree with everything I have to say. If you hate cats, TELL me you hate cats and we'll work on converting you together. I just don't want to be in that kind of relationship, where everything is super agreeable. I also don't want to jump right into a relationship where we're on a fast track to marriage. I mean, yes, obviously I want to get married. Someday. But I'm also happy to simply DATE for a while.
Since Andy filled out her stats, I'll do mine as well.
I wore: skinny jeans, a striped sailor shirt, black leather jacket, black booties, and a scarf.
He wore: Jeans, a tee shirt, beanie.
Location: Caffe Ladro and then Wild Rover.
Second Date Possibility: Well, he asked if he passed my "test" to which I said, "I don't really have a test...but sure....yeah." So, yes.
Final Score: Not a love match on my part. Nice guy, but I don't see it going anywhere. I did agree to go out with him again, but only because...well...I can't say no.

Workin' 9 to 5 - ANDY

2009-12-04T15:22:00.000-08:00

Dolly Parton was on to something when she sang about the woes of the working woman. I’m going to go ahead and stretch this group to include those of us working to find a man. Because, ladies and gentlemen: yes, this online dating stuff has begun to feel like my J.O.B.

After [my actual] work this week, I found myself somewhat begrudgingly logging onto my computer to engage in match maintenance. The task of perusing the new matches of the day, winking at the cool ones (read: my type) and then answering emails from those men who were interested enough to write me a note seems like such a chore.

To be fair, several of these men seem great, and possess some of my preferences (which include but are not limited to the following, in no particular order: humor, sincerity, intelligence (young professors, where are you!?), long(ish) hair, tall and thin(ish) build, interest in art and music, and a pretty serious interest in furniture always helps. In a word: Jeff Goldblum, but that’s another post entirely.) I answer these emails with [what I hope is] charm and wit, and hit send while crossing my fingers.

Some of the men emailing me are so absolutely not a good match (on levels including fundamental worldviews which are included in our profiles), it makes me wonder why on earth they thought so. They possess qualities which include but are not limited to the following: massive interest in cars (just not my thing), 5’-5” and under, residency in another state, residency on another coast, pomposity, the username ImOnaBoat (true story). I click the “answer with a polite No Thanks” button for them.

Throughout my dating years, I’ve heard all kinds of advice for catching/snagging/insert-appropriate-verb-here a man.

Some people firmly tell me that Relationships are hard work! (And by default, getting into one is, too.) Throw yourself into the ring and get ready to fight! Seek and ye shall find! (yes, that last exclamation comes from the Bible, but…work with me here).

At the other end of the spectrum, friends have told me Your mate will find you when the time is right! Stop wanting it so badly!(Notgonnahappen.) Good things will come to those who wait! From my point of view, that theory works for, say, a ketchup bottle (and even then, that’s only if you like ketchup).

So. Should we work to find our mate? I’ve heard people frown at online dating, arguing it isn’t “organic” or “natural.” I’m here to tell you, in my experience, the so-called organic dating scene hasn’t been successful for me as of yet (and I live in Seattle. You think at least I’d be able to find one Teva wearing, hemp tote carrying, Organicman somewhere). Just kidding. But honestly, the natural way of meeting man hasn’t worked for me. And while it’s a bit of a chore, I’m okay with putting effort forth in the hopes that in the end, I’ll find my mate. I will forge onwards, and keep winking! Because, to borrow another famous proverb, If at first you don't succeed, try, try again!

match.com… I have a bone to pick with you. - TUCKER

2009-12-02T23:07:00.000-08:00

match.com for dummies:
• match.com sends you emails everyday with your “Daily 5”, a list of five guys they think you would be compatible with… I think it’s purely random… but that’s just me.
• match.com has a search function where you can search through all the guys on based on location, age, hair color, religion, politics, eye color… basically it could get as specific as you want. This function is awesome… until it gets boring.

The novelty of sifting through hundreds of men has lost its luster. I literally DO feel like there’s a line of men just parading in front of me. I get way too many emails from guys I would NEVER be interested in. I can’t stand these emails that say, “hey, I’m 50… if that’s ok with you”. Uh no, no that is not ok with me. Apparently I am catnip to the 50 year olds. Not my favorite thing….it’s cluttering up my inbox.
Then let’s talk about the guys that ARE interesting, someone I would consider getting to know better. I’ve gotten over the whole “the guy does the winking first” thing, and have started winking at guys. Seriously, I’m winking at so many guys match.com must think I have a twitch. This would be the normal time for me to start saying to myself, “wow, winking at guys first?... look at me… I’m progressive!”… if I was getting much of a response, but I’m not.

SOME people [Andy] say I need to add a bikini picture to my profile. Is that really what this comes down to? What I look like in a two piece? I can save them all the trouble: a) I don’t have the body of Megan Fox. 2) yes, I have breasts. C) I prefer the bandeau style of bikini top.
Three words: N and O. End of conversation.

One hint: I do NOT look like this:

PS. I hope I’m this happy when I’m 80 and in a swimsuit.

Lessons in Communicating - GEORGINA

2009-12-01T13:40:00.000-08:00

I THINK....I'm about to get asked out on my first eHarmony date.

By a Canadian native.

I've heard tell that readers are confused about the stages of communication in eHarmony. Let me enlighten you.

In eHarmony, there are four (4) Stages of Communication.

Stage 1: START COMMUNICATION. Sounds pretty basic, right? Every day, DR. NCW sends me a handful of new matches. I sift through them, and toss out all the ones from Everett or Silverdale. I kid. I only toss out the ones from Silverdale. From there, either my match or I can choose to initiate conversation. Which means simply, I receive a set of five multiple choice questions to answer. Most common one? Believe it or not: "How often do you find yourself laughing?" From there, I can send back a set of questions to my match. For those of you who know me, I'm sure it's no surprise my first question sent is: "Are pets an important part of your life?" I don't trust a man who doesn't like animals.
Stage 2: SEND MUST HAVES/CAN'T STANDS. On this one, I'm pretty sure DR. NCW jumped the gun a little. I can tell you right now that if, in answer to my question: "Where do you see yourself in 15 years?", a match answers "D: A house in the suburbs", then I already know what I Can't Stand. End of match.
Stage 3: SHORT ANSWER QUESTIONS. This section is what killed me on tests when I was in school. I never knew exactly how to answer the question. That is to say, I would know the RIGHT answer, but I could never resist the urge to elaborate, therefore docking points. The same is true in Stage 3. Example: a match sent me the question: "What is your Ideal Man/Woman?" What do I do? I answer something roughly: "This is a hard question to answer. I don't know what my ideal woman looks like. I am totally joking....wow, my ideal man would probably be a guy who doesn't take life too seriously [...etc...]". With that guy, we have yet to progress to stage 4, so maybe he doesn't know how to take a joke.
Stage 4. OPEN COMMUNICATION. I am currently in this stage with about four guys. Open Communication is like emailing back and forth, after a serious message from DR. NCW telling us to be careful when going on dates with people we don't know. In open communication, you have the option to send your phone number or real email address, which is what I have done with one of those guys. The Canadian. It is also a place where the guys say things like "Your answer to one of my questions was so heartfelt! That is exactly how I feel too. Sounds perfect!"

All in all, the stages take about 3 days to get through. And truth be told, I barely even read all their answers. It just seems a little much, and I truly can't tell if I like a guy based on their answers to a multiple choice question. Even IF they use "E: [fill in own answer]". I guess I rely more on good ol' fashioned chemistry than I thought.

Notes From an eHarm Novice - ABBY

2009-11-29T21:24:00.000-08:00

Top 3 Reasons I Joined eHarmony:

Someone whom I adore met her almost-fiancé (whom I also adore) on eHarm.
My grandma’s 81^st birthday wish (right before she blew out her candles) was that I would “get married and have babies.”
I love a good blog.

So here I am doing something I said I would never do. But I'll let you in on a secret (I kinda love it). At first, I felt bombarded by military men (do I really live within 30 miles of Fort Lewis?) and guys who were my height (5’5”). But after a few days and a few dozen “closed” matches, Dr. Neil figured out who I was looking for in “open communication” (meaning we’ve made it through 3 rounds of essentially multiple choice questions) with two guys who appear promising. One of them is out of the country for two weeks doing a humanitarian project (score!) but I hope to go out with him when he gets back. The other one asked me what my “personal style” is tonight. That’s definitely something I’ve never had to express in 250 words or less.

I’m not sure if I’m doing everything right. Can I uncheck “addiction” as one of my 10 “can’t stands” because it goes without saying? Is it wrong to close matches with people I’m not interested in just to clean up my eHarm homepage? Is it bad that I can’t think of the most influential person in my life aside from my parents?

I’m excited to see where this adventure goes. It has already provided some good stories and laughs and an interesting answer to that ubiquitous question: “what’s new?”

Before I go, I want to give the men on eHarmony a few tips:

Don’t post a picture of you with your arm around a gorgeous girl. It makes us wonder who she is (sister? ex-girlfriend? daughter?)
The self-portraits of you in your bathroom? Not hot.
Please, please, please use correct grammar (Your not winning me over).

Match: Date 1 - ANDY

2009-11-29T20:26:00.000-08:00

There I was, waiting in a little pub near my house for the Englishman, trying to look nonchalant and totally occupied (read: I may as well have been wearing a Single Girl Waiting for a Date sign). Where is he? I have been here for 15 minutes! Suddenly my phone vibrates: he is in the wrong (but near) neighborhood. ? I give him the No Worries assurance on the phone, while in my mind I’m kiiiiiind of annoyed. I remind myself that kinks are part of life, and quickly shake it off. Ten long minutes later, he walks in, gives me a hug while apologizing profusely. He excuses himself to the restroom, which gives me the chance to frantically text the other Experimentors “Scratch that. He is cute. And nice. And smells good.” Here is where you find out that apparently, I judge books by much more than their covers; I throw smells into the equation.

We ordered beers (Hefeweizen for me, Pilsner for him) and food (burgers for both of us), and dove right into the date. He IS nice (as per my first impression), is gainfully employed and pursuing further education, loves and is close with his family (aka LIVES WITH THEM, negative points here), and is cute to boot. Kind of Hugh Jackman hair (long-ish and scruffy) meets Luke Wilson’s face. With good cologne.

We talked about post-college life (jobs, dating), camping (he hates, I love), movies, music, etc. Typical first date conversation. He is kind of quiet, which quite honestly makes me a little nervous; I’m not quiet (to say the least).

We finished up and since it was early, did the whole …well, do you want to do something else? dance. He had a suit on hold and wanted go get a female opinion, so off we went. So yes, I got into his car. But let’s be honest, those who know me know that I’ve gotten into stranger cars. :) Following shopping, he dropped me off where my friends were waiting for me, and gave me a quick kiss. Unexpected, but in no way unwelcome.

In conclusion:

Vital Stats:
I wore: skinny jeans, grey deep v t-shirt, and a black trench. I know, not at all boring.
He wore: dark jeans, plaid shirt (of the hipster persuasion), good shoes, and a bomber jacket. Hot.
Location: Hilltop Alehouse, in the QA.
Random fact: he is, in fact, 6’-2” as his profile claims. Which is great for me, as I’m pushing 5’-11” and harboring a pretty serious addiction to heels.
Second date possibility: well, yes. Because I saw him last night after the Apple Cup. Again, fun. ☺

Final Score:
All in all, it was a great first date (I got the Thanks for a great evening text after he dropped me off). No fireworks in the sky, but a good 8 out of 10. The attraction is definitely there, and he has piqued my interest. We’re going out towards the end of this week.

Meanwhile, I'm communicating with some other [again, seemingly] great guys. I'll keep you posted. Duh.

Apple Cup 1, me 0. - TUCKER

2009-11-29T19:07:00.000-08:00

Not much to report on my end… but here’s the story… (don’t get your hopes up). Background story, Friday night handsome 29yo emailed me and asked me to meet up following the Apple Cup (UW Huskies vs WSU Cougars in football for those of you not from Washington). I accepted and responded to the email asking where we should meet and said he could pick. He wrote back with the very passive email saying “well I live in 20 minutes north of the city, and I’ll probably be at a bar up here watching the game, so what do you think of that?”. What do I think of that? I’ll tell you what I think, you can get in your car and come meet me in the city. Anyways, I responded with “well, why don’t we meet halfway”. He said sure, and told me to text him after the game. At about 8pm I texted him asking him what his thoughts were and saying I was up for anything. I quickly got this (probably drunk) text: “tonight prob isn’t gonna work… another night?” Ok let me pause here and say, my evening had been busy, like babysitting all four of my nephews and one niece busy. And I may have smelled like vomit, at least the clothes I was wearing sure did. So, I wasn’t completely crushed by his cancelling the date, but yes, some of my pride was hurt. I thought about responding with, “in your dreams jerk” (or some variation of that), but then the thought crossed my mind that maybe it would be good to play the whole, “whatever, I’m cool, I’m breezy” role. I went with the second responding with, “sure, have a great night. Hopefully the loss wasn’t too hard on you!” (His precious Cougars got shut out 30 to ZIP). He responded with “it was”. Annnnd I haven’t heard from him since. Real winner of a guy there. But I’ll give the guy this, I’d rather him cancel the date because he’s been drinking than agree to meet me all sloshed.
PS. On his profile he doesn’t say what his occupation is, weird right? Under the occupation part he says, “I love my job!”. Well sweet buddy, but I was looking for more of a title or job description here. Anyways, in one of our original email chains I asked him what he did and he responded with “I like to tell people in person what I do… But I do love my job”. Ok. That doesn’t help. I’m sure a strip club manager loves his job too… So now I’m really more curious about what he does for a job more than anything… We’ll see if I ever find out.
No more match.com dates planned for the near future…

Profile Up[DATE]ing - GEORGINA

2009-11-29T19:02:00.000-08:00

Out of all four of us, I was hands down the most reluctant to do this whole "online" dating biz. It took serious convincing, primarily of comments from my roommates such as: "You'll be the ONLY roommate not part of this," or (from Abby) "What? You're too cool?" So...one night I stayed up past 10pm and made a half-hearted profile on eHarmony. Most of the questions I responded with one word (Q: Is there one more thing you'd like to share? A: Nope. OR...Q: What is one thing only your best friends know about you? A: N/A). You get the picture. NOT into it.

From that night, both my matches and my profile have gotten progressively better. My first match was with an old friend from college. I saw his name and said, "Oh wouldn't that be funny if....oh my gosh, oh MY GOSH!" I covered my eyes for a minute, shook my head, and decided to ignore it.

The next day I received a "Closed Communication" (basically a pre-written email) from my friend saying he "chooses to close this communication because we are already communicating outside of eHarmony". That made me chuckle and think about sending one back that said "Please reconsider, I really think we have what it takes", but I didn't. That's the kind of behavior I'm sure Dr. Neil Clark Warren would frown upon.

I took some time tonight to re-look at my personal profile. What kind of message does "Nail Polish and Sour Patch Kids" send when listed in my Top 5 Can't Live Withouts? I mean, it's true I can't live without either one of them, but I'm pretty sure the guys who view my profile see that and think "next". Am I guilty of a shallow profile? I tried to beef it up by switching out nail polish in place of a good book. My car keys (stupid answer anyway) were nixed in place of a strong cup of coffee. Sour Patch Kids stayed in spot #2.

What happens when I actually meet one of these guys and they take one look at me and think, "hmmm...one of your 3 passions is going for a run through the fall foliage? Doesn't look like it...." Or worse, what if they actually SUGGEST a run through the fall foliage? How in the world do I gracefully bow out of that?

I don't know what is better: having a profile that depicts ME (someone who loves God but also shallowly loves clothes and shopping, vampires, nail polish, candy, and celebrities...while also loving poetry, trying new restaurants, going to shows and concerts, reading [anything], traveling [anywhere], a cold beer or a margarita or a glass of red wine or...), or the artsy "Seattle girl" who hikes that all these guys seem to be looking for?

Maybe what I've learned through a night of profile updating is that I barely know myself, yet alone what I want or need in a relationship.

I'm hoping that is something Dr. Neil can help me with.

matchy match - TUCKER

2009-11-27T16:37:00.000-08:00

Well, I probably should be completely honest and divulge that I have been on both match.com and eHarmony in the past. Obviously I didn't have much success, but just as obvious, I'm not having much success left to my own devices. That being said, the thought of all four of us joining the world of online dating at the same time seemed intriguing.

On my first round on match.com I went out with a number of guys (read: about 10), ate at some really great restaurants, drank some good lattes and put up with a lot of asinine conversation. Alas, I was about to moving out of the state, so the thought of starting a dating relationship just in time to make it long distance didn't seem like a good idea.
Skip forward a year and a half. I was back in town, with a new job as a nurse at a local hospital, and decided, along with the quiet, at times not so quiet, prodding of my oldest sister to join eHarmony. While I did enjoy the "free personality test", I only met one man the whole three months I was on the site. Seriously? ONE? I'd have better luck in Belltown. Regardless, while this guy was a great catch on paper, things just didn't click on my part.

This brings us to the present. Back on match.com. Wow. That's a sentence I never thought I'd have to say.

Since starting my subscription on match.com (or as match said, "welcome back!"... DEPRESSING) on Wednesday evening, I've received a number of winks, IMs and emails. While I don't have quite the stories that Andy is boasting about (see: An Elementary Education), it is amazing how many of these guys use common pick up lines to start a conversation. I've received several "wow, you have a great smile" and one "You are so Cute that I wanted to Say Hi" (capitalization left in it's original form). One person said that I seemed to have a good head on my shoulders. Well thanks (Dad).

On match.com it's up to you or the guys to contact each other. This brings in the Wink factor. I have been faithfully winking at people, basically making the first move. However, I haven't received many winks back. Nothing makes you feel uglier than getting shot down by an unreciprocated e-wink.

But, in the midst of the clutter are some really quality guys. I've been chatting with one handsome 29 year old who seems pretty great (besides being a Coug, sorry Crystal). We are meeting up for a drink tomorrow evening. Details to follow.

An Elementary Education - ANDY

2009-11-27T16:02:00.000-08:00

So far, my match experience includes about 20% [seemingly] quality men (ie handsome, funny, employed, etc), and 80% Phillip Markoffs (google it). See below for a taste of the crazy.

1. The day after joining match, I received an email containing the following phrases (as yet unanswered): "your very appealing and exciting to read about and think about. I think your totally my type and very adorable [...] lets talk about how we might be able to make something workable viable and exciting take shape! ? :)" Have I mentioned that he lives in San Francisco? And is 35? And is wearing a Stanford sweatshirt in one profile photo, suggesting at least an elementary knowledge of proper grammar? This email was followed up with another one, subject line: "Your the One." Really? He just asked for my phone number (no), or if I'd like to come down to SF to visit him (oh, hell no). So there's that.

2.

This beauty winked at me. I realize this could be a fake photo, but need I say more?

C. czy_eddy has IM'd me fourteen times in two days. I haven't responded once.

I am going on a date tonight with one of the 20% men; you'll get the play by play, don't worry.

Let's Hear it for the Girls

2009-11-26T21:22:00.000-08:00

Welcome to life at the tail end of 2009. Dating life, that is. Please meet four roommates: Tucker, Abby, Andy, and Georgina.* We're all very pleased to meet you, although at times it may not feel like it. Dating is never easy, even for fab twenty-somethings in a metropolitan city.

The Players:

Tucker: a 27 year old nurse. Loves zip up hoodies and ballet flats.
Andy: a 25 year old architectural designer. Loves red lipstick and mid-century furniture.
Abby: a 24 year old fundraising rockstar. Loves micro brews and new restaurants.
Georgina: a 25 year old fund development extraordinaire. Loves high heels and a good Sour Patch Kid.

For years, our moms and dads have been telling us what catches we all are, and how one of these days we will get snapped right up by Mr. Right. Have they been lying to us all along?

Here we are, ten, fifteen years later, and we still have not been "snapped up". Generally satisfied with our lives - friends, families, and jobs - we're just looking for someone to share it with. Or at the very least, someone to fill the time - other than pets (read: a cat).

The Game:

This is where our little "experiment" comes in: for the next three months, four roommates will get on two different online dating sites...for one ultimate goal.

FINDING OUR HUSBANDS.

No, only kidding. One Giant Experiment. We want to see if, with Dr. Neil Clark Warren, you actually do "experience a difference". We want to see if it really is "okay to just look".

Some initial impressions on both sites:

eHarmony moves a lot slower than Match. Abby and Georgina are both on eHarmony, and are still in just the initial communication stages. It seems pretty intentional to actually "start communication" with someone. It also seems pretty harsh to "end communication". For me, I received a closed message from a guy who said he wished to end communication with me because he was pursuing another relationship. Although we had never even exchanged "first questions" I still went "hmph" a little and took it personally.
Match has more of a "meet at a bar" feel. You're able to search through hundreds of guys in order to find one who is visually appealing to you. They do, however, send five daily matches which you are able to sift through. Also, they have an email component which both Tucker and Andy have been utilizing already...and on top of that there is an IM feature. Feedback from this feature is that it is kind of annoying.

It's really up in the air which one is more successful at this initial stage. Match sent Tucker and Andy directly into email communication with tons of different guys, whereas Abby and Georgina are more cautiously sending questions back and forth with just a few select people. But let's all be honest: this is more action than any of us have gotten in a long time.
Stay tuned for Saturday's post. Andy has her first date with a match guy, and if past dating experiences foreshadow anything...it should be a doozy.

*Names changed from our own to our past (or current) favorite pet. So...we're not really protecting their identities...

DISCLAIMER: While this experiment is funny and we may from time to time poke fun at some of the dates we go on, this is not to falsely misuse any sort of social network and is entirely malice free. We are simply four girls who have tried everything else - it's the grapefruit diet of dating.