EHarmony, Facebook, Myspace, & Roomates.com are interchangeable words.

So I've always fared on the side of caution when it comes to meeting people via the internet. I pretty much assume every guy that's contacted me has some fundamental flaw. Like a Unibrow or a penchant for kidnapping women into windowless vans. And reasonably so I thought, I mean, why wouldn't these guys just meet women at the club? Or at church? Or in the bathroom stall where it said to be there "for a good time at midnight". To be fair, we're never true representations of ourselves on the internet. No matter what social media we're using. Listen, I'm a culprit myself. Amongst my friends, I'm a notorious "de-tagger". During the brief time I was single and actually interested in male interaction, versus wallowing in my own misery and steaming artichokes on a Friday night, I looked into creating a profile for Eharmony (because I wanted to meet someone special today). I was off the market for a combined four years, I turn around and all of a sudden, prowling the internet for dates while pant-less at your desk was no longer creepy, but collectively, the most viable way to meet a new partner. Hi Martha, welcome to 2006.

Maybe its my idealistic heart, or secret hopes of being able to tell my kids the adorable story of how I met their father at the dog park, when his dog bit me in the butt. It just sounds so much better than 'he cyber poked me and sent me 'icebreaker' questions as procedure before investing further time in getting to know me". So inorganic. Then as I went through my romantic Rolodex I realized that I had become somewhat of a FREAKIN' POSTER-CHILD for it. My 3 last boyfriend stats goes as follows:

Current-Facebook
Previous-Roomates.com
Previous before that-Myspace(R.I.P (Myspace that is, not him))

So then I had to re-evaluate what my issue was with dating-specific websites, when clearly I've not only dabbled, but done a nose dive, head first into the non-specific dating internet abyss. I guess it's because I always thought of myself as this unassuming, innocent bystander on the road of social networking. But in reality, everything on my profile was calculated. My photos went through a strenuous screening process before posted. Criteria included but not limited to: sexy but not slutty, fun but not an alcoholic. All the quotes and likes I had should reflect how cultured, worldly and life affirming I am. So perfect, I should just tie a pretty pink bow and send it to grandma. In actuality, I love Jersey Shore, I'm on a Hot Cheetos & Redbull diet and today is laundry day so I'm wearing boy shorts. And that's how its is, all day err day. So I guess I found my issue with online dating within my own hypocrisy; Everything we put out there about ourselves went under one giant red "Edit" button before anyone got their shameless,voyeuristic eyes on it!

Maybe someday, should I find myself single with a lost appetite for artichokes, I'll jump on the bandwagon. For now, I appreciate the gift of being able to judge a man the ol' fashioned way: through my own personal prejudices, filters and biases, based on his actual dysfunctions and not some manufactured porcelain version of himself. Cause, you know...that seems fair.

SMILE; it'll make you feel less horrible when you leave the grocery store

This post will be short and sweet-myself;manifested in a blog entry. But, the other day, as I was checking out at the grocery store, I noticed the bag boy looking at me. In my non expert, VERY assumptive opinion, I think he was mentally challenged by his demeanor and his gestures. Gestures-being the way he put my eggs at the bottom of the bag, underneath much heavier things such as a quart of milk. Or the gourmet bacon that hypnotizes me with her sweet spell every time! There's always a chance that he was just inexperienced in the bagging arts. So I don't know the official classification for it, but I am definitely not using those phrases insultingly, I mean them literally. I think at the very least maybe he might have had a social disorder? In any case, he smiled and naturally, I smiled back. But, in that very nervous, awkward manner. Sort of the smile version of the laugh you'd give when drunk Uncle Mike starts saying inappropriate things around your girlfriends. Then I immediately looked down, waiting to swipe my card as to avoid any further eye contact. In my peripheral, I could see he was still looking at me, waiting for me to catch his glances again. Every beep of the register slow-mo'ed...beep...beep..awkward...creepy...I did everything in my power to avoid this. Grabbing my bags, head hung and tail between my legs, and walked past him without even the slightest acknowledgment.

As soon as I got through the sliding glass doors, this feeling of guilt and sadness consumed me. There he was, this innocent guy, who's probably shunned and avoided by most society, women in particular, looking for a millisecond's worth of validation with something as simple as a smile. And I didn't give it to him. Yup, that's me, Captain Asshole right here *Raises hand*. All of a sudden in my mind, this guy's entire self worth fell precociously on my shoulders. And I destroyed it. Of course, I'm just flattering myself, cause' that's kinda what I do. But I couldn't get it out of my head. Not smiling means one thing to the recipient. Smiling is open for interpretation. And I'd rather give that misinterpretation than the alternative. So lesson learned, I'm smiling every time now. And why not? Time to exploit the braces I had in High school! You never know what it could do for someones day. And if you could change someones day, you might change their week, and their life and who knows, maybe next time you won't end up with 3 cracked eggs.