OKCupid: Where I go so that men can shout at me

I joined OKCupid. I broke down. I feel like the internet knows when you’re single, even if you’re not continually listening to “All By Myself” on youtube, or buying copious amounts of Jack Daniels from online liquor outlets. I finally cracked after getting one too many “Your true love is out there…and if you don’t join our site, you will NEVER FIND HIM.” emails.

You reach a point in your life where you find yourself saying, “Eventually my best friend is going to get married, and I at least want a date to take to her wedding so I don’t have to awkwardly go over to catch the bouquet with all of the teenage girls.” Bouquet throwing rituals are awkward for me anyways because i’m two feet taller than all the other girls and everyone assumes i’m cheating.

So, why did I choose OKcupid? Why not Match.com, or Eharmony? Well, I went to the better, more accredited site, match.com at first, but backed out as soon as they wanted me to pay before they would let me talk to anyone. It turns out that when it comes to love, I’m pretty cheap and am willing to try other alternatives first before I resort to using GOOD dating sites:

Under career he put: Game developer. Seems legit.

Everyone told me, “You get what you pay for Tara!” and I said, “Nonsense! I’ll meet a great guy, and he’ll take me on dates, and we’ll get married, and we’ll be on dating website commercials where we’ll talk about how wonderful OKcupid is in a voiceover over images of us holding each other while we giggle and smile!”

Someday i’ll get mad when you don’t change your facebook “relationship” status fast enough.

Well, it turns out that you get what you pay for. And on OK cupid, you don’t pay a dime! Although, they do have a ‘premium feature” where YOU DO pay, but I honestly don’t know how they can possibly improve. For instance, when they find someone they think will be REALLY good for you they call it a “Quiver match”. Get it!? Because of CUPID!!???

First of all, OKcupid forces me to acknowledge just how shallow I am. I look at  a man’s picture first, then height, then I actually read the profile. In my defense, I don’t automatically dismiss a man based on either of these traits, but if they are a lot shorter than me I am forced to envision our possible life together as a ridiculously named, terrible 80’s sitcom:

A new comedy featuring the most unlikely couple, “The tall and short of it!”

The next thing you notice about OKcupid is that they have a percentage system which is not so much informative as it is baffling. Couple this with the fact that everyone is able to choose their own ridiculous nicknames, and this is what you see:

“HotDAWG77 is a 75% match for you, a 65%friend for you, and a 21% enemy for you.” And if your enemy% is higher than 30% OKcupid offers these words of wisdom: “Y’all got issues.”

No, the percentages don’t add up to 100, why do you ask?

The “enemy” percentage is particularly confusing to me because I don’t know what criteria they use to judge it. I keep waiting to run across my 100% percent enemy. My hope is that in his profile picture he’s twirling a handle bar mustache.

This is the photo that I used:

Nice.

In the interest of full disclosure however, I should have also posted this one:

65%match, 70%friend, 6%enemy, 100% FOX.

One of the strange things about OKcupid is that a lot of the men send me ALL CAPS MESSAGES. In my profile I wrote many witty and charming things, but one detail I included about myself was that I have very few enemies. This is true. My life is as far away from a soap opera as you can get. So one evening shortly after joining the site I received this gem: “IS IT TRUE WHAT YOUR PROFILE SAYS? THAT YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE? BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T ANSWER ME YOU ARE MY NUMBER ONE ENEMY IN THE WORLD.” Naturally, I messaged him back, and our wedding is scheduled for the spring.

Even more alluring than his persuasion was his total lack of details when I went to his page. He had no photos (see, I’m super shallow), no personal description whatsoever, and the only personal detail he had added at all was that he was 41. I’m not going to suggest that he is absolutely a serial killer, but I am going to post this unrelated picture:

PUT THE LOTION IN THE BASKET TARA!

I don’t understand this tactic. I’ve never been on a date where someone yelled at me. “HI, I’M SO GLAD WE’RE FINALLY DOING THIS!! I HOPE YOU LIKE CHINESE!!HAHAHA!”

So it’s been going…ok. I’ve gotten a few nice messages, and a surprising number of guys have messaged me. The only thing I can say about online dating is that so far… it isn’t a lot easier than real dating. So if you’re thinking that you can escape all of the awkwardness of real life dating when you go to the internet, you will be disappointed. It is not a magic bullet.

Also, I have no idea how I’m stacking up to the other girls on this site because OKcupid won’t show you girls. I can’t tell how I measure up. Maybe I need more duck face photos. Just so that my attractive upper lip hair is especially visible.

Later!

Tara

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The one that starts the blog

Hey I’m Tara!

Right now I’m going to set you up with all the TARA-BUL puns that go along with my name. Personally, I think that Tara is a TARA-IFIC name, but others find it absolutely TARA-FYING.

The thing that I don’t like about that business up there is that terrific is the only positive one, and it’s the one that almost doesn’t really work.

-__-

This is me:

Hi!!!!

I am not your typical girl. And I don’t mean that in the sassy, “I AM NOT your average girl, I am a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man!” way. I mean it in the biological, anthropological way. I am six feet two inches tall. It doesn’t seem like a big deal to me until I see pictures like this:

hide the women and children. It’s TARA-FYING.

I honestly forget that I am large. And then people are always sticking me in the back of the line when it’s time to take pictures, and refusing to let me enter the bouncy castle at parties.

But that’s not really what the blog is about! I’m not good at basketball, or volleyball, and I am probably not model material:

If I went on “America’s Next Top Model” there would be too many cat fights between Tyra and me about who was the most attractive.

And really, there is only so long I can talk about how my height has led to many shenanigans. What this blog is really about is being a woman. Being a girl. I can’t figure it out. I want to be sexy, but I want to be a tomboy.  I’m a feminist, but does that mean that I should reject all modern standards of beauty? I’m looking for a job but I can’t find one. This blog is about my struggle to figure out how to be a girl. Because right now I am just girl-ish.

Ok, I promise that I won’t start every blog with a title like an episode of Friends.