Online dating

Many years ago, I was sitting in a training.  Because we were doing hands-on computer work, I had a computer to myself and I had my e-mail up as well as the program we were working with.  That means I was sneaking around, doing personal e-mail while I was supposed to be working.

In the middle of the morning, I got an email from someone with my last name, but a first name I didn't recognize.  He said, "Your name makes me think you are a nice Norwegian lady."  I wrote back, "Well, I'm not sure that I'm nice or a lady, but I am 2nd generation Norwegian American."  That did not deter him, and we embarked upon an e-mail friendship.

It became clear to me that this was a man looking for an old-fashioned girl.  He was a teacher in SoCal, an artist, and a cross-dresser.  Quite the mix.  Eventually he found my number and called me up, and he sent a video of himself, and it became an internet romance.  Somehow, I'm not sure how or why, we decided to have me visit.  There was a Van Gogh exhibit in the area, which was the official excuse.

Mind you, this was a married man, with a 20-something daughter who lived at home.  His wife had had kidney disease for 20 years, going in to dialysis twice a week.  And he was terrified of the time when she would finally succumb and he would be alone.  I knew I could not be the solution to his problem, but I liked his sincere love of teaching and his belief that he could foster character growth even while he was teaching math. I'm a sucker for social activists.  And I found that I liked his family, too.

The Van Gogh exhibit was great, and the stay was pleasant.  I explored the town and walked by the orange groves.  We went on some hikes and visited some missions and walked by the Pacific.  Mainly, his wife and daughter went along.  He sent me home with avocados and limes from his back yard, and I made the Best. Guacamole. Ever. when I returned to Portland.  But, the pheromones just weren't there, and after that visit I wrote less and talked less and then I just stopped answering him.  He was pushing for something I couldn't give.

This last summer he called and told me that his wife had died, and there was some disconnect with his daughter, but he was retired and working on his art.  I told him I was married and moving to ABQ, and he wished me a good life.  That's probably the last I'll hear of him.

I'm thinking of him, because I just joined OKCupid and created a profile there.  And the responses have been very reminiscent of that previous online dating experience.  Lots of men ignoring the profile and making up a person in place of the one I presented.  Lots of widowers and lonely men, looking for that special lady.  Lots of people who put God at the top of the list of 6 things they cannot do without.  And lots of people ignoring the algorithm that says we are 43% enemies.  (Then again, two of my friends on OKC also rate highly on the enemy scale.  And highly on the match scale.  So, I don't get how the calculations work.)

Truth be told, I joined OKC because I was sad and unable to focus on practising or reading or sleeping.   (I was also coming down with an infection, but that's another story.)  And I wanted to see what TheGWickham was doing.  The Lizzie Bennet diaries are entering the home stretch, and I need to read the tea leaves.  How are they going to deal with the Wickham-Lydia thread?!

Instead, I discovered why online dating is not for me:  I can't bear to blow off these men.  Yes, they are probably not who they say they are, and yes, they probably are just trolling for any willing female, playing the odds.  But how can I say, what planet are you from? when they tell me I have an inviting smile and I am radiant and beautiful and have the potential to mend their broken hearts?  When they live hundreds of miles away, from Manchester England to Massachusetts to Texas but still want to get to know me?  When there is no way they understood what I meant by caveat emptor (I was alluding to the fact that I'm just getting over a 10-year marriage.) but they tell me my profile is wonderful?  When we clearly have nothing in common, but they still write to me, pleading for a response?

Clearly, this is not the time to be doing this. I'm just a tad too vulnerable and it's just too big a time sump. But, I did discover a man whose favorite books include The Wind in the Willows, Sense and Sensibility, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Where the Wild Things Are.  And whose music includes Nina Simone.  That alone is worth the price of admission.  Who knew?

Oh, and  if you are curious:  Wickham is "seeing someone" (Lydia?!) and he and I are a 75% match.  Hmm.  Wonder why he hasn't written to me.