Closing time, last call for ... commenting?
In 1999 I found myself newly single and totally out of my element regarding dating. I'm not one of those girls who finds herself drowning in male suitors. I'm also inclined to have more male friends and acquaintances than female. Men do not fix up their chick friends with guys they know. It was once explained to me that guy friends don't do this because it will cause one of two things to happen (possibly both): 1. Should the female friend ever get drunk enough to have friendly sex with him , it surely won't happen if she's dating one of his friends. 2. If things don't work out, he might lose a really good friend or two.
I sought out attention and possible dates via the Internet. I was broke and unwilling to pay to put my mug on a dating website. That left me trolling the AOL chat rooms. I had various screen names. I learned that having anything with sexy, hot, gr8, etc in your name was a sure fire exclamation from chat roomies yelling, err, typing in caps PICS? GOT PROOF? I hadn't thought of the need to share my wares. I thought someone could just fall for me based on my intelligence, wit and charm. Wrong! After all, who'd buy a car without at least looking at it first? I had no success until I managed to get a photo to share. Ugh! The stress of taking the perfect picture that didn't appear overly posed, made up or, God forbid --show my 'more to love' curves.
I finally got that photo to all who'd been promised. I learned the online lingo and tricks of instant messaging while remaining in a chat room and keeping up with the conversation. I was a master. In fact, the moniker Wildhair is derived from that persona. I say persona because I was far less inhibited while seated behind the keyboard in the comfort of my own home. I'm not a shy person, but I'm not an all out, in your face gal either. Once warmed up (my family and close friends can attest to this), I am an unstoppable force.
I managed many dates via that format. I met several toads. I met princes with potential. I came to befriend a few incredible people ... most of which are men. I've maintained contact with a couple men who just weren't meant to be Mr. Wildhair. It's not that I didn't want it. Timing is everything. Location is an additional stumbling block when meeting someone on the 'net. I've wished them well in their pursuits to find Mrs. Jay or Mrs. John.
Due to increasing drama from the chat room buffoonery, I dropped out of sight or site. I couldn't muster the cojones to be subjected to the rumor mill that is an AOL chat room. People (women) became deliberately cruel when they felt I was treading too closely to a man they were possessing or obsessing over. Men who've been turned down or rejected found it amusing to make ridiculous claims that they knew me intimately. Nothing crazier than finding out the king turd ball of the chat room was having a tell all session. ACK!
In 2005 I returned to my home planet of Kankakee, IL. Dating has been a dry spell of biblical proportions. The dating pool has obviously received an overdose of chlorine or algae. I'm betting on the latter. I made some half hearted attempts at the various dating sites: Match.com (I'll tell that story shortly) and eHarmony.com (another humorous tale). I even considered checking out buyyouadrink.com, biggirlsneedlove2.com and whyareallthegoodonestaken.com and iswearimnotpsycho.com. I confess I just made those up in lieu of being unable to recall the other sites where I tossed up a profile. You do the math for me because I didn't get many nibbles from serious prospects. I'm not really looking for answers. My patience wears thing quickly with men who won't take the time to write out a complete sentence using complete words. If I wanted a guy who grunted monosyllabic sounds, I'd just buy a man-whore with whom to get my groove on. Alas, that isn't possible; nor it is an appealing alternative.
So, where does that leave me? I'm setting out to find other vices and, in the meantime, I might make a couple more friends with like interests. No longer am I fixated on getting a date. Last night, albeit strange for many who don't use the Internet for more than email or shopping, I had a blast chatting it up on one of my favorite blogs ~ Sean Daly's Pop Life. The players: Sean Daly, Jane, Carla and myself. Sean asked for help in compiling a 4.5 hour party playlist. We ladies were armed and ready for the challenge. In the past I'd make comments, walk away and check back later. Last night's chat-tasm took on a life all of its own.
I can't mention Sean's blog without giving props to the man who ultimately led me there. He's a sophisticated man about town....Steve Spears. He's the 80s guru who brings us Stuck in the 80s blog. A companion piece to that blog is the brilliantly funny podcast. And wouldn't you know it? Steve and Sean are co-hosts of said podcast. I'm addicted. I'm a junky! I'm a groupie and proud of it. I'm not ashamed to say that this is my drug of choice. I even bought the tshirt!
I'm able to cyber hang with like minded people who have a yen for music, movies, music and culture that WAS the 80s. I couldn't be more tickled to have found this cyber hangout. I blame my brother for linking me there. Or, should I be thanking him?
I sought out attention and possible dates via the Internet. I was broke and unwilling to pay to put my mug on a dating website. That left me trolling the AOL chat rooms. I had various screen names. I learned that having anything with sexy, hot, gr8, etc in your name was a sure fire exclamation from chat roomies yelling, err, typing in caps PICS? GOT PROOF? I hadn't thought of the need to share my wares. I thought someone could just fall for me based on my intelligence, wit and charm. Wrong! After all, who'd buy a car without at least looking at it first? I had no success until I managed to get a photo to share. Ugh! The stress of taking the perfect picture that didn't appear overly posed, made up or, God forbid --show my 'more to love' curves.
I finally got that photo to all who'd been promised. I learned the online lingo and tricks of instant messaging while remaining in a chat room and keeping up with the conversation. I was a master. In fact, the moniker Wildhair is derived from that persona. I say persona because I was far less inhibited while seated behind the keyboard in the comfort of my own home. I'm not a shy person, but I'm not an all out, in your face gal either. Once warmed up (my family and close friends can attest to this), I am an unstoppable force.
I managed many dates via that format. I met several toads. I met princes with potential. I came to befriend a few incredible people ... most of which are men. I've maintained contact with a couple men who just weren't meant to be Mr. Wildhair. It's not that I didn't want it. Timing is everything. Location is an additional stumbling block when meeting someone on the 'net. I've wished them well in their pursuits to find Mrs. Jay or Mrs. John.
Due to increasing drama from the chat room buffoonery, I dropped out of sight or site. I couldn't muster the cojones to be subjected to the rumor mill that is an AOL chat room. People (women) became deliberately cruel when they felt I was treading too closely to a man they were possessing or obsessing over. Men who've been turned down or rejected found it amusing to make ridiculous claims that they knew me intimately. Nothing crazier than finding out the king turd ball of the chat room was having a tell all session. ACK!
In 2005 I returned to my home planet of Kankakee, IL. Dating has been a dry spell of biblical proportions. The dating pool has obviously received an overdose of chlorine or algae. I'm betting on the latter. I made some half hearted attempts at the various dating sites: Match.com (I'll tell that story shortly) and eHarmony.com (another humorous tale). I even considered checking out buyyouadrink.com, biggirlsneedlove2.com and whyareallthegoodonestaken.com and iswearimnotpsycho.com. I confess I just made those up in lieu of being unable to recall the other sites where I tossed up a profile. You do the math for me because I didn't get many nibbles from serious prospects. I'm not really looking for answers. My patience wears thing quickly with men who won't take the time to write out a complete sentence using complete words. If I wanted a guy who grunted monosyllabic sounds, I'd just buy a man-whore with whom to get my groove on. Alas, that isn't possible; nor it is an appealing alternative.
So, where does that leave me? I'm setting out to find other vices and, in the meantime, I might make a couple more friends with like interests. No longer am I fixated on getting a date. Last night, albeit strange for many who don't use the Internet for more than email or shopping, I had a blast chatting it up on one of my favorite blogs ~ Sean Daly's Pop Life. The players: Sean Daly, Jane, Carla and myself. Sean asked for help in compiling a 4.5 hour party playlist. We ladies were armed and ready for the challenge. In the past I'd make comments, walk away and check back later. Last night's chat-tasm took on a life all of its own.I can't mention Sean's blog without giving props to the man who ultimately led me there. He's a sophisticated man about town....Steve Spears. He's the 80s guru who brings us Stuck in the 80s blog. A companion piece to that blog is the brilliantly funny podcast. And wouldn't you know it? Steve and Sean are co-hosts of said podcast. I'm addicted. I'm a junky! I'm a groupie and proud of it. I'm not ashamed to say that this is my drug of choice. I even bought the tshirt!
I'm able to cyber hang with like minded people who have a yen for music, movies, music and culture that WAS the 80s. I couldn't be more tickled to have found this cyber hangout. I blame my brother for linking me there. Or, should I be thanking him?
Pssst... it's me -- jane from Sean & Spears' blog land. Yes, I have an alter-ego!
ReplyDeleteGreat post, great sentiment. Here's to more of everything in this new year.