When eHarmony Starts Sounding Like the Generic Women's Magazine

On top of receiving emails notifying me of potential matches, I have the joy of slogging through emails from eHarmony with articles about "3 Reasons Men Leave Women They Love" and what I can do about it. Here are some more: "The Top Kissing Complaints," "Dating Style: Casual Cool or Polished Sophisticate?" "Single Women: 7 Strategies for Meeting Mr. Right," etc. (All these cam be found at advice.eharmony.com.)

I admit I am torn. Part of me resents the fact that, according to the first article I mention, if a Man leaves a relationship, it was because of something I could control and a result of something I did or did not do. (Which I don't always believe is the problem.) (Unless this happens more than once, then it might very well be the type of man I am picking ... or something like that.)

As for the Dating style piece - shouldn't I dress the way I want too - whatever I'm comfortable with? Sometimes that's jeans and a sweater - sometimes that's a dress and heels?

On the other hand, I can see that perhaps the reason someone has signed up with eHarmony is, for whatever reason, they haven't found a partner yet. And maybe some of the reasons for this is that ... there are some things they can do differently.

But I have to say, my initial reaction whenever I get a "helpful" email from eHarmony with their advice is impatience and disgust. If I want to read one of those stupid articles where the answer to my relationship problems can be summed up and fixed in 5 paragraphs, I'll pick up one of this stupid Women's magazines like Glamour. At least eHarmony hasn't sent me any emails about sex - then I would have to turn to Cosmo for the magazine equivalent.

In the Words of Stephen Colbert - "Facebook: You're On Notice."

Facebook, I know you've tangled with your users before. I realize the majority of your users are teens and twenty-somethings with some older people thrown in (and pedophiles who have been kicked off of Myspace). And , as a "free social networking service," you make money by selling ads tailored to the individual user.

I had a birthday last month. I'm now on the down side of 35. But I don't think I deserved the following three ads that showed up on my Facebook home page:

"Meet Elite Mature Men!"
"Face lifts!"
"Look 5 to 10 Years Younger!"

So, Facebook is now telling me I'm too picky and has found Elite men for me to meet? (I don't necessarily think being too picky is a bad thing when it comes to the dating department.)

And, really, I don't think I need any face lifts. I even stated in my "25 Random Things" that I want to grow old gracefully. And it's not like I've joined the "I'm Over 40 and On Facebook" group.

So screw you Facebook. With your judgements about my relationship status, my looks and my life.

I just wish I could quit you.

OMG. (And Not In A Good Way)

My second foray into dating happened last week at a Starbucks in Arlington. This was the second guy I had been emailing from eHarmony. In the very first email, L. said he was only 5 feet, 2 inches. I'm only 5 feet, 1-3/8 inches (in bare feet), and to tell the truth, I've never dated anyone that short. But, you know, I'm keeping an open mind.

I showed up, walked in and immediately thought, "Oh. My. God." L. was probably about 40 pounds heavier than his profile picture. L was so different from his profile picture, I came home afterwards and checked. Just to make sure I wasn't crazy. And he was practically bald. And really round. And sort of shaped like Humpty Dumpty. And I had to bend over a bit to hug him.

Now, I don't have a problem with any of these things. I'm not the most svelte woman out there. And personally, I like men who embrace their baldness and shave the whole darn head. I can think of quite a few sexy men with shaved heads. Jason Statham. James Blake (post dreadlocks - tennis player). Michael Chiklis. Um. My mind went blank. But a man losing his hair doesn't bother me at all.

I've always thought of myself as an open-minded, kind person. Someone who doesn't judge people based solely on their looks. But as I was sitting there talking with L., I couldn't help but wonder what people would think of me if they saw us walking down the street together. Then my next thought was, "How incredibly shallow." But where does that leave me? See L. again just to prove to myself I'm not shallow - even though I'm not interested? And wouldn't that be leading him on more?

Our conversation was alright. I did sit there with him for an hour and a half talking and getting to know each other a little. And L. invited me to dinner, but at that point, I knew I wasn't interested, so I declined. And then I left and called Angela and expressed shock. She pegged what was bothering me about the whole thing - I had a bait and switch pulled on me. The profile picture showed one thing - the person was another. Which, I guess, isn't that suprising with the whole internet dating thing. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

The kicker of this experience? L. closed out communication with me on eHarmony with the reasoning of, "I just didn't feel like the chemistry was there." At least I avoided another phone call like this.

Dialogue of a Confident, Independent Woman

My parents raised my sister and I to be strong, independent women. We were never taught that we couldn't do things because of our gender and that certain jobs were "boys" or "girls" jobs. I suspect this was easier to do since there were only two girls and no boys growing up. Who mowed and trimmed the lawn, cooked dinner, did laundry, ironed and relocated 1/2 cord of wood growing up? My sister and I. Our mother never told us, "When you grow up and get married, you can do whatever you want ..." or anything like that. It was usually, "When you grow up and have your own place ..."


My recent adventures into the dating world is a place I haven't had much experience in this. Then again, I haven't had much experience in dating. I've mostly just "hung out" and then, Bam! We're in a relationship. Usually because we've just had sex and one of us (okay, mostly me) wants to see the other one again.


After my date with T last Sunday, I decided I didn't want to pursue anything else with him. And when I didn't hear anything from him during the week, I thought perhaps he felt the same way. Until T called Friday night and left me a casual message saying hi. Rats. Now I'd have to call him back. (Calling T back was reaffirmed after a very long discussion with a co-worker on the way back from Baltimore about how it drove him nuts when women would get his messages and texts, and then wait a few days before responding.)

I waited a day and called about 7:00 pm Saturday. Below is basically the message I left:

"Hello, T? Thank you very much for lunch on Sunday, Clyde's was a nice restaurant. I, er, don't think, um, (short, uncomfortable laugh) jeez, I don't know how to do this, (then I burst out with) I don't think it's going to work out between us. I hope things go really well for you, and if you have any questions, you can call me (What the f*** was I saying? I was trying to say we shouldn't see each other any more, and I'm leaving the door open for more communication?!?!). Anyway, thank you again for lunch, and good luck."

I can't even imagine how much more disastrous the conversation would have been if T actually picked up the phone. As soon as I hung up, I realized what a mixed message I left. In my defense, I've never had to leave a message like that for anyone (as if you couldn't tell).

Well, at least I got the following done:

1. First date post-divorce? Check.
2. First awkward phone call letting the other person know I don't want to see him anymore? Check.
3. Feeling like an awkward teenager still? Check.
4. Slightly embarrassed because I feel like I should have learned this stuff already instead of learning it in my thirties? Check.
5. Willing to keep trying and possibly make a fool of myself? Check.

One thing I've come to accept. It's mighty hard for me to find another relationship, get married, and have kids if I'm not willing to meet men and go out on some dates. Mighty hard.

So I'll keep trying. I accidentally bought a 1-year membership to eHarmony anyway. What the hell. Call me an optimist.

Date Wrap-up

I've gotten some emails from folks wondering how the date went last Sunday. We met at Clyde's in Reston which is sort of a fancy-upscale pub. We had some really good food (Eggs Maryland for me - like Eggs Benedict but with crab cakes instead of ham), and some good conversation. There were some potential red flags I made note of during our emails, and I wanted to meet in person to see how things played out.

There were a few concerns: T made a comment about doing something to solely piss off the ex-wife (not for any other reason). He kept giving me suggestions (kind of pushily) about what I needed to do to go into the Coast Guard Reserves, and get back onto Active Duty even though I said I didn't really want to get into the law enforcement side of the CG. And he brought the conversation back to that topic later on. I got the distinct impression that T was "partier," and even if he didn't drink often, when he did - things could potentially get crazy. (I'm sort of wondering how truthful the Drink: once or a twice a year part of his profile was.)

I decided that even though I had a very pleasant time, T wasn't what I was looking for in a partner. It was nice figuring this out on my own practically and logically. Without getting swept up in the "potential" for the relationship and just taking my own thoughts and feelings about it.

And I did offer to pay for lunch since I suggested meeting in the first place. He politley declined, and then I offered to leave the tip and he declined again. If we went on a second date, I would have paid.

What's After Toe Dipping?

After I moved out (January 30, 2006), formally separated, and eventually divorced (December 14, 2006) my (now ex-)husband, I took some time off to figure out how the hell I actually ended up in that marriage because I really, really, never want to do or go through that again. I did lots and lots of prayer and meditation, crying, talking with the support system and sponsor, went to lots of meetings, and ended up in therapy. During that time, I avoided anything that even resembled a potential romantic anything. In fact, if I even was even remotely attracted to a guy, I (mentally) ran screaming away, far far away. I was in a place where I couldn't trust myself or my instincts.

After much work, I realized that I had some things to deal with and work through that (of course) had nothing to do with the ex-husband, and everything to do with family of origin stuff (doesn't it always?).

November 2008: I decided it was time I dipped my toe into the pool of dating and romantic relationships. At the suggestion of the therapist, I mentioned to my friends that I was possibly, potentially thinking about, you know, maybe, sort of, well, in the near future, getting back out there. In the dating world. To meet men. For dates. And whatnot.

I joined eHarmony, filled out the 6 pages of questions and waited. I'm glad to see I'm not so screwed up eHarmony rejected me (despite those chemistry.com ads, I did not steal library books). I started getting communication requests and hence, my sucky-second job started.

After a few weeks of emails, I worked up the courage to see if anyone wanted to meet for coffee. Because coffee is way less scary than, you know, food. Like lunch or dinner. Or, good lord, breakfast. Sneakily, my coffee date slid into a lunch date (I mistakenly said noon).

*Cue the chorus*

I'm going on a date tomorrow.

*End cue*

Sure, it's only lunch (that's what T said on the phone. Already - more well-adjusted than I in this particular area). But what the heck, I have to start somewhere.

So what exactly is the next step after I dip my toe? Submerging the foot? Wading up to my waist? Does it depend if I wear make-up and heels or not? Questions, questions, questions.

I'm so clueless about this stuff.

Stealth Mode

I've been sick with a sinus infection (yes, you're welcome for the accompanying visual), and then a 1500 mile round trip down to Orlando with the dogs for Christmas, and possible food poisoning from New Year's.

So, no blogs from me lately. I didn't even log into eHarmony. Sometimes, keeping up with all the communications feels like a second job. A sucky second job where I don't get paid. Of course, one could say the pay-off is a few dates, some coffee/tea meetups, a potental romantic relationship. One part of me is up for the effort in pursuing my romantic life for the new year.

The other part of me completely identifies with Liz Lemon in 30 Rock Season 3, Episode 4 when she wanted to date Gavin Volure (Steve Martin) and all she wants is to (I'm paraphrasing) "skip into the relationship 12 years and sit on the couch and watch tv together."

Bah. Contradictions: you will be the death of me yet.