Have I begun to update my blog again? I don't know, don't ask me stupid questions. All I know is that I got somethin' to say!!
I'll catch you up. I (finally!) moved to Brooklyn. I'm still a vegetarian, maybe vegan soon. I still work with little baby gays. I still love Lady Gaga, Madonna controversy and all. I still love Madonna, irrelevance and all. I am still a homosexual. And I'm still kinda single, which leads me to the point of this sudden re-emergence into the world of sharing one's thoughts for public scrutiny.
I recently started checking out OkCupid. By "checking out," clearly I mean to say, I created a profile, answered nearly 200 questions about myself and values, spent hours virtually sifting through pictures of myself, and added words to said profile to get 90% profile completion. I have never been a 100% kind of guy. I like to shoot for "good enough" and surprise you later.
I don't hate the OkCupid. In fact, I really kind of like it. I hate admitting that I like it, which kind of makes me hate OkCupid, and then I go crosseyed. I have never been an online dater - I've always been curious about it and open to it, but I never found something that was really right for me. I will always, always, always prefer meeting someone in what I like to call "the real world," and not this online dating world. I'm no fool. I realize that by creating a profile, I am doing just that - creating a representation of me that may or may not be accurate. It is the best possible representation of me that I imagine for myself. So, not all that accurate. But hopefully it works. I also realize that others are doing the same. I also also realize that I'm doing virtually the same thing when I meet someone for the first time in "the real world," but I have less time to analyze and revise, and anyone who knows me knows that I have that little tendency called word vomit...
The OkCupid has been, for the most part, a really interesting experience. There are people who rate you 5 stars and then never respond to your messages. There are people who just try too hard. Granted, we're all trying hard, but when you come off as trying too hard when we all are, ...damn. Take it down a notch. There are people you know. There are people you wish you knew. There are people who you never, in a million years, would ever want to know. There are a lot of people who are delusional. There are people who don't have friends because they post pictures of themselves that a caring friend would intervene and say "don't. Just... don't." There are hipsters (as evidenced by their Hipstamatic prints). And then there are actors. Fuck, are there actors. Every profile I came across that included a headshot, I just shook my head, looked down at my keyboard, and clicked "Next match." I kind of love it. And I have actually gone on some dates. And I will tell you about those dates.
My first date was a dude who won a Halloween costume contest on my all-time favorite celebrity gossip blog, Oh No They Didn't. He dressed as Dexter. You know, Dexter. And he has a fierce, fond love for Amy Sedaris. The only problem is that he's a ginger. I've never really interacted with gingers before, at least not if I could help it. Kidding, I have an Ariel from Little Mermaid complex, but that only extends towards women. Boy gingers just do nothing for me. It is worth noting that I almost as a rule only date tall, dark and handsome guys with prevalent noses. Think reversed Holocaust. Gingers and blondes have rarely done "it" for me, and I never do "it" for them, ifyaknowwhatImean. But Dexter was cute enough to overcome these initial, superficial obstacles (more on me being superficial in just a moment). So, I went on a date with him. He made me laugh, solely by his Jerri Blank impressions and quote knowledge. Seriously, it was scary. In a funny way? I don't know, I was laughing. I was also drunk. At the end of the meal, he noted "Wow, this is expensive," and then took me to a bar and bought me 2 more drinks. Which led me to think a few things:
Our third date was dinner at his apartment. I think this is when I realized that it wasn't going to work out. We had been on 3 dates and all three involved being in one of our apartments. No, that's not it. It was a sign, for sure, but my real reason is much, much worse. My real reason for ending it was his voice.
I'll catch you up. I (finally!) moved to Brooklyn. I'm still a vegetarian, maybe vegan soon. I still work with little baby gays. I still love Lady Gaga, Madonna controversy and all. I still love Madonna, irrelevance and all. I am still a homosexual. And I'm still kinda single, which leads me to the point of this sudden re-emergence into the world of sharing one's thoughts for public scrutiny.
I recently started checking out OkCupid. By "checking out," clearly I mean to say, I created a profile, answered nearly 200 questions about myself and values, spent hours virtually sifting through pictures of myself, and added words to said profile to get 90% profile completion. I have never been a 100% kind of guy. I like to shoot for "good enough" and surprise you later.
I don't hate the OkCupid. In fact, I really kind of like it. I hate admitting that I like it, which kind of makes me hate OkCupid, and then I go crosseyed. I have never been an online dater - I've always been curious about it and open to it, but I never found something that was really right for me. I will always, always, always prefer meeting someone in what I like to call "the real world," and not this online dating world. I'm no fool. I realize that by creating a profile, I am doing just that - creating a representation of me that may or may not be accurate. It is the best possible representation of me that I imagine for myself. So, not all that accurate. But hopefully it works. I also realize that others are doing the same. I also also realize that I'm doing virtually the same thing when I meet someone for the first time in "the real world," but I have less time to analyze and revise, and anyone who knows me knows that I have that little tendency called word vomit...
The OkCupid has been, for the most part, a really interesting experience. There are people who rate you 5 stars and then never respond to your messages. There are people who just try too hard. Granted, we're all trying hard, but when you come off as trying too hard when we all are, ...damn. Take it down a notch. There are people you know. There are people you wish you knew. There are people who you never, in a million years, would ever want to know. There are a lot of people who are delusional. There are people who don't have friends because they post pictures of themselves that a caring friend would intervene and say "don't. Just... don't." There are hipsters (as evidenced by their Hipstamatic prints). And then there are actors. Fuck, are there actors. Every profile I came across that included a headshot, I just shook my head, looked down at my keyboard, and clicked "Next match." I kind of love it. And I have actually gone on some dates. And I will tell you about those dates.
My first date was a dude who won a Halloween costume contest on my all-time favorite celebrity gossip blog, Oh No They Didn't. He dressed as Dexter. You know, Dexter. And he has a fierce, fond love for Amy Sedaris. The only problem is that he's a ginger. I've never really interacted with gingers before, at least not if I could help it. Kidding, I have an Ariel from Little Mermaid complex, but that only extends towards women. Boy gingers just do nothing for me. It is worth noting that I almost as a rule only date tall, dark and handsome guys with prevalent noses. Think reversed Holocaust. Gingers and blondes have rarely done "it" for me, and I never do "it" for them, ifyaknowwhatImean. But Dexter was cute enough to overcome these initial, superficial obstacles (more on me being superficial in just a moment). So, I went on a date with him. He made me laugh, solely by his Jerri Blank impressions and quote knowledge. Seriously, it was scary. In a funny way? I don't know, I was laughing. I was also drunk. At the end of the meal, he noted "Wow, this is expensive," and then took me to a bar and bought me 2 more drinks. Which led me to think a few things:
- Dinner wasn't expensive.
- Why would you say that out loud?
- Why you gonna buy me 2 drinks after you complained about how expensive dinner was?
- It's not gonna work out.
- I can do Jerri Blank better than you.
And that was the last I saw of Dexter, until I saw him a week or so later at a bar. We had really good chemistry, it was a fun date, and I'm happy to know we both knew by the end of it that it wasn't going to work out and we just left it as that and now we can just say "hello" to each other in bars.
My second OkCupid date was one that I was really looking forward to. He's a guy who looked just like a Jewish version of Jim from The Office. Why all of my dates resemble TV characters, I don't know. I'm just glad this one didn't resemble a serial killer. We e-mailed a lot over the course of a few weeks and he seemed really cute. Funny, smart, and also seemed like he was prepared to get involved with someone on a more serious level. All of this was pretty attractive to me. Plus, he was really cute. Our first date happened weeks after I had initially contacted him because of winter vacations, etc. Once it happened, it was great. Literally one of the best first dates I've ever been on (which means like 3 or 4...) We spent hours together, conversation never ceased, and we even made out a little bit. I was a little self-conscious because he was Harvard educated and I am not, but I knew a photographer that he didn't know about so that somehow swiftly leveled the playing field. Knowing photographers = Harvard education.
On our second date, he came over to my apartment for dinner. My neighbors got robbed simultaneously and naturally sought my apartment for safety. It was really odd, but it was also kind of exciting, and scary, and crazy. An excellent story you could tell your future kids about in the future. Spoiler alert: There would be no future.
Our third date was dinner at his apartment. I think this is when I realized that it wasn't going to work out. We had been on 3 dates and all three involved being in one of our apartments. No, that's not it. It was a sign, for sure, but my real reason is much, much worse. My real reason for ending it was his voice.
I really wrestled with this. I hate that I dismiss it laughably in a blog, and there's no way of saying it that doesn't sound awful, but I really hated his voice. And to this day, I still can't figure out if it was just an easy scapegoat or what. I'll leave the aggressive psychoanalyzation of my choices to my roommate. He was a tall, dark, handsome dude... but his voice sounded a bit like a thirteen year old girl who hadn't hit puberty yet. It was about as sexy as Sarah Jessica Parker without makeup, good lighting, or designer clothes.
I knew it was over when we were cuddling and he said "You're so handsome" and all I could picture was that thirteen year old girl, curly haired, freckled, brace-faced, laying next to me. I knew it was something that I just couldn't get over and more importantly, I couldn't get into it. So, I'm a horrible person. If you read this blog before, you knew that. If you didn't, HI!
Rather than going about it the appropriate way and saying "Sorry, we won't be going out again, I find your voice really unappealing so much so that it diminishes whatever attraction for you I once had into a pool of nothing," I decided it would be more appropriate to just drop off the face of the earth.
So, yeah. All of you gay teens out there expecting it to "get better," I have a surprise: it doesn't. Especially if you date someone like me and you have an annoying voice. I'm sorry. I have a really hard time owning up to rejecting others. I think because for so long, I was the reject. I can't bring it upon myself to respectfully and tactfully decline someone's company (forever). I was a fat kid once, and I still feel like I have absolutely no right to make someone else feel like a fat kid. Also, is there any good way to let someone down? Wait - don't answer that. I know, I know. Even if it sucks, it sucks more to just never hear back from someone. I get that. I think what I really fear is finally owning up to my rejection of someone else and hearing them say "I didn't like you in the first place - how dare you reject me?! I was doing you a favor!" Totes irrash, I know. Leave it to a reject to fear rejection while rejecting somebody. I can't help it, though. I was born this way.
After that experience, I became gradually more weary of the OkCupid. I liked how easy and accessible everything was, and I liked how I could see who visited my profile. I'm a big fan of open stalking. However, something happened which changed my view of the OkCupid.
I met a boy in real life. Granted, it was in a dimly lit bar way past my bedtime and there may have not been much more spoken then "Hey, I'm Wes, wanna make out?" but it happened and the Internet was not even slightly involved. I think that's something to be proud of. Since then, we've been hanging out on the regular.
I know that online dating is "normal" now, and for someone who spends an insane amount of time on the Internet, it should feel okay for me, but for some reason it just doesn't. I'm just inherently skeptical - more skeptical than I am about dating in general. My two experiences, although brief, have confirmed what I've suspected to be true: the idea of someone is different than the reality of someone. The longer one spends communicating virtually, the more one fleshes out that idea into something it very likely is not.
For me, this takes the fun (and scariness) out of dating... Viewing images, blurbs, and demographics about someone that have been carefully constructed and scrutinized before hearing the word vomit. I kind of want to be word vomited on. I like the messiness and awkwardness of meeting a stranger and getting to know them the old fashioned way. I like the messiness of being messy and making out with a boy in a bar and seeing what happens next. I like not knowing anything about someone and slowly peeling back the layers to find more and more.
Sometimes, they're an onion. Other times, they're a rose. And there goes the word vomit.
I met a boy in real life. Granted, it was in a dimly lit bar way past my bedtime and there may have not been much more spoken then "Hey, I'm Wes, wanna make out?" but it happened and the Internet was not even slightly involved. I think that's something to be proud of. Since then, we've been hanging out on the regular.
I know that online dating is "normal" now, and for someone who spends an insane amount of time on the Internet, it should feel okay for me, but for some reason it just doesn't. I'm just inherently skeptical - more skeptical than I am about dating in general. My two experiences, although brief, have confirmed what I've suspected to be true: the idea of someone is different than the reality of someone. The longer one spends communicating virtually, the more one fleshes out that idea into something it very likely is not.
For me, this takes the fun (and scariness) out of dating... Viewing images, blurbs, and demographics about someone that have been carefully constructed and scrutinized before hearing the word vomit. I kind of want to be word vomited on. I like the messiness and awkwardness of meeting a stranger and getting to know them the old fashioned way. I like the messiness of being messy and making out with a boy in a bar and seeing what happens next. I like not knowing anything about someone and slowly peeling back the layers to find more and more.
Sometimes, they're an onion. Other times, they're a rose. And there goes the word vomit.
"I like to shoot for 'good enough' and surprise you later." That is a quote for the history books. Brilliant.
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