The Dating Game

I might have mentioned before that I've been putting a tentative toe back into the murky waters of internet dating. There hasn't been much success. Admittedly, I haven't been pursuing it too hard, but there are a few reasons why. Two glaringly large ones, to tell the truth.

The first is pretty straight forward. Although I've been checking out other people's profiles, I haven't really been up for attempting to contact the ones who were interesting, as a general rule. No good reason why, I just tend to click away before letting them know I'm interested. On the rare occasion that I do click the 'wink' button, there's generally no response. Seems my profile isn't attractive to them. Which leads me to the second reason for my dating fails.

My profile is, I think, fairly straight forward, slightly amusing, and on the whole, better crafted than most of my blog posts. It sets out my criteria as far as age, distance from a set point in Melbourne for them to be living, all the usual things. Yet somehow, this all gets ignored. So far, the contacts from this profile have ranged from the aging locals to the age-appropriate Swiss.

Now call me nuts, but there is something a teensy bit wrong about a 57 year old man winking at a 30 year old, even if it's only electronically. It's old-fashioned and potentially age-ist, I know, but there you have it. If you're old enough to be my father, chances are that I'm not going to be interested in you, whatever you might see in magazines about young women and their billionaire sugar daddies.

Also, if you live across the other side of the country, chances of a healthy long term relationship, not good. Even worse if you're on the other side of the world. And for those who are both twice my age AND on and entirely different continent - perhaps even planet - take the comments above and double them. Triple them. And add in sound effects of me dying laughing at the thought that you meet the criteria of having a bit of a brain.

Yeah, I know, it's harsh. And given, as a friend observed today, that there are no single men left in our age group who aren't single for a good reason, or broken beyond saving by the load of baggage they're carrying, perhaps I shouldn't be so choosy. But dear god, there has to be a better way to meet someone. If anyone knows what it is, please let me know. Because there's no way in hell that the internet is going to work for me.

We've gotta stop meeting like this...

So I'm back in a settled existence, working, seeing friends, blogging, and it only seems fair that it was time one of my other stable occupations kicked in: I'm back on internet dating sites.

Yes, sad but true. And right now, I'm wrestling with levels of frustration that I should be familiar with, but somehow always strike me as something out of the blue when they come.

First there was the guy who messages regularly, seems interested enough, but never quite gets to the next level. He seems happy enough with just chatting via the keyboard, which I can see will get old fast. I've dropped all sorts of subtle hints, from the usual what's going on this weekend, to asking questions about cooking, where he goes, what he gets up to. Nothing shakes him loose. But without fail, every time I log on, he's there with a hello, however much he makes me work for anything more than that.

Then there is the guy who seems to have dropped me since I wouldn't add him as a Facebook friend. We've chatted a couple of times, and he seems nice enough, but I don't want to friend him, and have to explain to Dad, my aunt, my sister-in-law, my cousins, and various others, who it is that I've just added. It gets awkward. And that's without considering howmuch of my life he would have had access to. But he hasn't messaged me since I told him I hardly use Facebook. A little lie, but nothing too serious. His loss.

But I've saved the best for last, because he's such a cliche. The guy who opens with the line "I think you're hot" and doesn't appreciate it when the "compliment" is brushed aside with a flip comment. Apparently, I'm supposed to reply "Thanks, I think you are too". Catch is, I don't think he's hot. He might be interesting, he might be intelligent, but usually, guys like this, they aren't hot. If they were, I doubt they'd be scouring the internet looking for a girlfriend. Luckily, I have a handy blocking button I can push, and he has now been consigned to the interweb dating scrapheap.

Men. Honestly. Even through a keyboard, they still seem to have no clues. Of course, I'm so much better, given that I'm sitting on the other end of the keyboard, just waiting for a message. Because a girl can't be forward, she can't initiate anything. Lord, the hypocrisy.

Geek by numbers

I am a self-confessed geek. Notice, I've even got those link things sorted now. Hell, I write a blog on a scarily regular basis. There's no denying it. But now, I'm a geek obsessed with numbers.

There's the stat counter that I run on this blog. I got very excited today, thinking that I'd had a load more visitors than normal. Turns out it was just 2 people discovering me for the first time - thanks for looking, folks. My handy little counter tells me where people have gone on my blog. It also tells me about something called page loads. It was the page load figure that had me excited. Whilst I love that there are people out there who've now read more than the most recent post - and yeah, I adore the idea of having an audience - I wasn't as excited when it turned out to only be two people.

And I'm still paying attention to the world of internet dating. I've hit a point where quantity far outstrips quality. I feel a thrill when I see how many people have read my profile. They haven't necessarily contacted me after they've looked, but the initial hook is enough.

The number of emails I get a day, the number of twitter followers I have...It's all about validation through numbers. And the internet, handy as it is, can tell me just how many people do - or don't, if you take a negative view - pay attention to little old me. I'm not exactly an extrovert in the real world (hell, I was voted person most likely to become a spy by my high school teachers, and that wasn't because of my athleticism or my skill with gadgets). But on the internet? Sure, I crave the attention in what could become a very unhealthy way. Notice, I'm even referencing myself here. 

I could blame the number of accountants I have in my life for the sudden fixation on numbers, but I know it's a lie. So instead, I'm just going to have to hope that the attention keeps up, or I don't know what I'll do. I might even have to make an effort in reality. And we all know that could end badly indeed.