OkCupid: Impressions: day 1

Following an extremely normal and expected letdown in my personal life, and a realization that I had acquired a bit of the "dating bug", I followed the advice of so many others and joined the online dating website OkCupid.

What follows are some of my impressions and evaluations of the process of starting my profile.  I'm just writing how I feel, and I'm just going from memory, and from glancing at my own profile page.  This is raw, people.

Getting into it:
Logging on and beginning the creation of a profile was easy and simple.  It's obvious that initially they are looking for a simple system and easy entry.  With something that relies on user input as heavily, they needed to make the set-up simple, and they have.  I'm unsure of just how many people are on there, but I can assume it's a large number of sad and lonely people like myself.

You, you, you:
Immediately after setup you are brought to your homepage, your profile.  You're certainly not done, and there's a progress bar to the side that measures just how much left you have to do, like it's some kind of test.  I STILL haven't finished setup, and I spent 3 hours on this.  What takes so long?  We'll get to that.
--First, however, you must fill in all the details of your profile.  Ethnicity, height, body type, if you smoke or do drugs, what you're religious beliefs are, how much money you make, etc.  All the hard, simple facts.  Relatively easy.
--Next. you must provide a profile picture (or pictures).  This is that first impression.  It is what people will see when they view your page, and even before they do.  A little thumbnail of yourself accompanies any information presented about you.  For instance, if I see a message that "Jane Brown" has such and such level of compatibility with me, I see a picture of her.  So, one must accomplish the impossible, and post a pleasing picture of oneself, a picture that will simultaneously represent you accurately and be the sole, initial focus of the judgement of those who happen to view you.  Woe is you, for thinking you could avoid this step; OkCupid is smart to put this step early on, to scare off the weak or hideous.  So I post a picture.  My fate is sealed.
--Then, you must fill in the "About" section, wherein you must put into words everything you want those who view your page to see.  It's a lot easier than choosing a profile picture, because you have the option to give a more full impression of yourself, if you're good at doing so with text on-screen.  Of course, if they're on your page already, they've already seen your profile picture, and for some reason they've approved of you.  Oh no, you've got someone stalking you, someone who likes to hurt ugly people like you.  Most of the "About" section is a series of open-ended statements you must complete: "I'm really good at", "The first things people notice about me", "The six things I could never do without", etc. This section also contains an "I'm looking for" section, wherein you say what kind of person you're personally seeking, and what kind of relationship you're looking for.

Then it gets personal:
The next "step" in the process is to answer some random questions about yourself.  I put step in quotation marks because, at this point, all of this is more work than a resume.  You should be getting paid for this.  And like any job, there's plenty of long, boring, repetitive work.  To finish this step in the process it recommends you complete 75 questions.  There are, of course, more than 75, but you need to finish at least 75.
Now, some of these questions are straightforward, easy, and unobtrusive.  You are presented with a statement ("Could you date someone who was really messy?" for instance) and you must respond, sometimes in degrees, other times with a yea or nae.  Following your approval, you must put what response to the above statement you want others to give ("Answer I'll Accept...") and finally you rate the importance of the question (from "Irrelevant" to "Mandatory").  This process has a pattern after a few questions, and you soon realize you're creating compatibility information, data the site uses to match you with potential partners. Around the time you're figuring this out, you start running into the personal questions. "Were you picked on a lot in school?", "Do you enjoy meaningless sex?", "Would you ever consider cutting a partner (who asked for it) in sexual play?", "Do you enjoy giving oral sex?", or "Do you believe in God?"  After the thirtieth question or so, I knew it was in deep.
Ironically, there's a rhythm you get into when you start talking about yourself, particularly answering questions.  You watch your "score" to the side, which measures how specific your answers are, and how likely you are to find a "perfect" match; you answer some very introspective and powerful questions, followed by completely asinine ones, and you start to get into a pattern.  Like I said early, I spent three hours signing up, and the majority of that time was spent on these questions.

And then the voyeurism starts:
When you've answered at least 75 questions, you are informed the next step is to take a look at their recommendations, and message 5 people.  Randomly message five people.  In real life, this would be the pick-up line.
Fair enough though, have to start somewhere.  So you start looking.  This is when the dirtiness starts to sink in.  You see a series of profile pictures--pictures carefully chosen by strangers, just as you chose yours--and you starts just knocking them down.  Boom, boom, boom, ding.  Not you, not you, not you, yes you.  As you look at their pics, you see their basics next to each:  username, sexual orientation (straight for me), relationship status (mine pages only show single), location, and how compatible each person is with you--specifically with your questions and profile information.  And it only takes moments, seconds, for you to start turning people down in your head, and deciding who you'd pursue.
You click on one person: a girl with a silly username and a cute picture.  She's too good looking, but hey, maybe you're a perfect match?  No, you're an 83% match, though OkCupid delightfully informs you that you're also a 90% "Friend" match with this person, and only a 13% "Enemy" match with them.  So let's call this person "PlainJane888" and she's 23 and single and lives nearby in Round Rock.
Going to PlainJane888's profile, you can read all of her questions, personal details, and interests.  You can see it all, including more photos, if Jane's uploaded anymore.  You can even go to their "personality" section, where you see data comparing her to the average girl on OkCupid.  According to this page, you see she's "less sloppy", "less sex-driven", and "more conservative" than the average girl.  Go figure.
From here you go to her questions, where they've put her questions and answers side-by-side with yours; the section is titled "the Two of Us" just to remind you.  Oh, hey, look, PlainJane888 thinks that jealousy is healthy, just like you do.  That's great.  If you keep looking, you find out more and more about them.  This is a mixed bag, of course, as you might agree on some completely frivolous questions (oh, look, we both like horror movies), but then disagree on important things (you say you want your next relationship to be 6-12 months, and Jane is looking for a one-night stand).  You can even answer new questions on this page, getting an instant comparison to this particular person, increasing (or decreasing) your compatibility score with them.  That's great.

The icing:
The secret is... this is TOO perfect.  I feel simultaneously sleazy, hopeful, and objectified.  But it works.  You're getting quick results, comprehensive (if shallow or skewed) information on complete strangers, and you can easily just pass by or ignore people you have no immediate interest in.  It's almost too much... and the worst part is, all the information is subject to change or interpretation, meaning you're only getting what you want to get from it.  I could read my profile page and think I'm a charming, intelligent, capable guy, or I could read it and think I was a snarky, bloated loser.  And I could do just about the same to anyone else.

The bottom line is, I'm impressed and disgusted at the same time.  The step in the registration process I'm stuck on, is messaging at least 5 people.  I think I've sent 3 girls a short message, nothing that would actually hook anyone.  I'm sure OkCupid will want a medical report and semen sample next.

Of course, I say all this having not heard any messages from anyone else, not even the three I've sent.  Perhaps I'd have a different perspective on all this if I'd obtained immediate results.  I'd settle for a quick, cheerful conversation online...
But this is day one, and there will be more to come, I'm sure.
I need to go take a cold shower.

Ramble - My Place Amongst Fools

Free-writing after a moody walk in the cold.

I'm listening to Thom Yorke.  Isn't he that guy from Radiohead?  Or maybe that's someone else.  I like the song, and to be honest, I like most songs that have a heavy beat or fast beats or both.  Any beat?  I'm anxious, but no real reason for it.  Tomorrow is my day off, a beautiful day off; I have to study, and I should work on homework for everyone.  I think I should probably make it a priority to... sorry got derailed by thinking about this one girl.  I think I should also work on the campaign for wednesday.  I can whip up something, but I want it to really be fun.

Why do I keep such strange and juvenile hobbies?  I can't really think why not, however, other than a few people who might make fun of me.  It's odd; being an adult, growing up, requires very little in the way of actually changing from who you were to where you should be.  And what does happen is not sudden.  I have childish hobbies, but I share said childish hobbies with so many others, a good many of my generation.  Now The Xx is on the radio.  Pretty chill.  I've always liked good female vocals in a song.  I think I might have strange views and issues with women, though it just fucking now dawns on me that that's completely normal.  Women are like men, but NOT.  They're completely NOT men, though they're undoubtedly human, and completely and utterly enthralling.  Nothing catches the eye like a woman with whom you have a strong connection.  Catches the eye, hmm, I mean, engages the mind.  Projecting.  Or was I?  Where was I?

My hobbies are childish, but so are everyone else's.  Doesn't that mean we're all childish?  Those amongst us with the most embarrassing interests and hobbies, they're the fools that get mocked, looked down upon.  But how different are we, we outcasts, we fools?  I doubt it very much that we're very different at all.  And there's me thinking about that girl again.  Girls again.  Women?  No, women are adult girls.  No one I know is a real adult.  But whatever.  Perhaps no one wants to look like an idiot, like a fool; no one wants to send the wrong signal.  To the opposite gender.  Or to society.

Animals know how to send signals; it's how they know to mate, to progress down the line.  Our society has grown so much.  We're TOO advanced in some ways, and far, far behind in others.  We're afraid to send the signal to others that we're not catching up, that we're not strong or sexually proficient or intelligent or wise or successful... but our society only has a vague, disgruntled view of what the criteria for all of those things are.  And whenever we accept anything as concrete, something or someone comes along to contradict the whole mess.  It's fascinating, strange, and wonderful, to be a part of such a messy, convoluted machine (modern society).  Where was I going with all of this?  Hmm.  Oh, I wasn't, random typing, getting out my musings, my thoughts, my worries.  I'm actually just practicing typing at this point, seeing how good my WPM are.  Cat dog frog log chain gang bang clang sane mane Jane lane etc.  The dumb fox jumped over the stupid hedge, or whatever.

My derailed train is derailing.  No structure.  Yet I'm always looking for connections.  How ironic.  I'd better find a new way to waste my time, to lose myself among my thoughts and my foolish neuroses.  This has been another entry, and another night in a long series of nights, alone in my head.

Oh, man, that one remix of that song by Trentemoller is on.  This song makes me wanna dance.  Think I'm gonna.

Mischief and Isolation

Why try and get in trouble?  What good does it do?

There is something about getting attention from others, good or bad, that lights a spark in some people.  Most people, actually, if we're all being honest.  We've all seen someone poke, prod, kid, harass or generally vex those near them--and we've all done it ourselves.  Boys pull girls' hair, chase them, and so forth.  Girls have their own methods, some more subtle than others, and usually much more subtle than boys' (at least to me, of course).  But from where does this behavior derive?

I bet I could reach into a hat and pull out ten experts that would all have vastly differing opinions on this subject.  Mating ritual, cry for attention, prenatal isolation, developmental immaturity, "trolling."  There's always a new way to look at these kinds of hypothetical questions.  As biology, sociology, psychology, and ignorance march onward, these kinds of vague questions are dragged along with them.

I can't help but wonder, however, if it all comes down to pure, simple attention.  No man or woman is an island, after all.  When I see someone mess with someone else--smiling, laughing, playing--I see someone simply looking for something they cannot find within themselves.  They can't bug themselves.

I know when I mess with someone, particularly the opposite sex, this theory applies.  It's a reminder; I'm here, and I'm not feeling a connection with those around me right now, not enough of one at least.  Pay attention!


I think upon this as I post baiting messages on Facebook.  I seek a reminder that I'm connected to others, and hope it gets me attention.  I am not alone in doing this.  In fact, if Facebook has proven anything, our need for connectivity and communication is extremely important, and part of Facebook's function is to keep us connected in the easiest way possible.  You don't need deep; you have wide and easy.

There's a "Like" button on Facebook; there's even a "Poke" button on Facebook.  I think you see my point.

So I don't feel so bad, reaching out to others.  I don't feel so bad messing with my friends, or with people I'd like to be friendlier with.  I mean well.  I know that deep down I seek what we all seek, and I'll get it however I am allowed, just like everyone else.

Losing It--Gaining It

Anybody ever wonder if the obsession over weight loss is somehow a metaphorical expression of our desire to conquer our more internal shortcomings?  No?

So I'm trying to lose weight.  I want to go from a pudgy to a normal, a size or two.  Not impossible.  I find it's not terribly hard to watch what you eat, monitor your intake.  The lovely iPhone (or Android, or whatever) has many apps that can do just that; there are even apps that monitor how much you walk or exercise, estimating how many calories you use.  Exercise is, of course, key to losing weight.  Yet the diet manages the weight, and keeps what has been lost, off.  You can't expect to lose much weight chomping on burgers in between jogs.  No, a healthy diet is paramount.  And grocery stores offer fresh produce, lean meats, Healthy Choice meals, weight loss shakes, and all manner of aids to facilitate shedding those extra pounds.

Only two real problems stand in the way of a successful diet change: time and money.

"Oh, only time and money?  That's nothing!"


Money is the most straightforward of the two problems; you simply can afford to eat healthy, or healthier, or you simply cannot.  Fast food (see: time) costs terribly less than fresh, well-prepared healthy meals.  I made 4 quarts of vegetable stew at home--all of my ingredients fresh and prepared by myself--and it costs me around $30.  And salad?  Salad is expensive at home and away.  But you can get a hamburger for a dollar, tacos for 89 cents.  Yet, if you have the money, if you're comfortable enough to afford it, the healthier items are within reach.

But who prepares them?  You do, good sir or madam!  You prepare them with your own two hands and your collection of expensive (see: money) pots, pans, and kitchen aids.  You've got a few free hours before or after work or school, and you're stuck in line at a grocery store.  Poor you--first world problems.  Then later, when you get off work; it's 6pm--or 9:45pm for myself--and it's time for you to start cooking.  Thirty minutes to an hour later, and you're eating healthy--or healthier.  Yet you sure did pass that McDonald's on the way home, and you've got a few bucks in change in your car...

These problems seem daunting.  They seem practically insurmountable, when the cheaper, faster, and sometimes tastier alternatives are close at hand.  And certainly most of us--even those with time and money--find it easier to eat cheap and quick.  I possess neither unlimited time nor unlimited money, and I fall prey to eating garbage, and pay for it in the long run.

So how is my diet fairing, then?  It is my current internal battle.  I asked earlier if our (modern) obsession with weight loss--with our image and our eternal search for good health--isn't some metaphor for our internal drive to improve ourselves on less corporeal levels.  I certainly think it is.  I find my search for myself in my new home, my new life, to be a search for a better self, a better life.  Why settle?  Why accept unhealthy patterns and habits as inevitable?  One doesn't have to, and it doesn't take miracles; just hard work, and that one characteristic which seems truly key to thriving in life, above possessing money and time: the will to accomplish.

Enough blathering.  Where's my boring rice cake?