Blogs

I overdid the online dating thing and am now in recovery.

I have killed off my avatar of amour, my doppelgänger of dating. I am no longer on any sites, my phone is quiet, and I have stopped overusing the emoji library. Since we are mortal and I hate to think it was all a waste of time, here is what I learned from being Ladywriter99 on Tinder, Plenty of Fish, J-Date and OK Vapid.

1. I'm not a commodity.

Meeting new prospects required serious maintenance. No dirty nails from gardening. Dieting to remain at my "fighting weight." No postponing appointments with my (ahem) hair colorist.

One Harley-driving fellow suggested I put up hotter pictures on my dating profile. Perhaps in heels and a tight black dress because I looked too girl-next-door. It's hard to think of yourself as merchandise. Although it's probably realistic.

One of my girlfriends met her soulmate within a few weeks of going online. She gloated, "I don't stay on the market for long!" I contemplated my far longer time "on the market," i.e. Plenty of Fish, and felt like a cut-rate flounder. Maybe I should discount myself.

Enough. No more marketing myself to strangers. I groom less. I've stopped wearing eye make up. I eat lots of carrot cake. I'm in a happier place.

2. My time is valuable.

Even for an unemployed slacker like me, online dating takes a lot of time. Some guys proposed a first meeting on a day they claimed to have free time, saying they'd text me that day with the meeting time. And that day, I heard….nothing.

After I'd arranged my day so I wouldn't be covered in gardening dirt or exercise sweat around the meet up. Which never happened. I hadn't insisted on a set time because I wanted to seem flexible and chill. Actually, I am rigid and high-strung. If you don't want to meet me, just say so. I'm a writer; I can deal with rejection.

3. Dating and regurgitation do not mix.

After a few first dates with the "not yet emotionally processed" divorced, I started to feel like Miss Lonelyhearts. This is a date. I won't tell you about my acid stomach problems. Please don't discuss your money-grubbing ex-wife, who didn't appreciate you, and/or had an affair with your exterminator. After listening for awhile, I start to question YOUR judgment skills.

One otherwise charming fellow insisted on discussing "The Women who Ruined His Life" in excruciating detail. Like to understand him, I needed a topological map of his past relationships. Um…no.

And yes, I did go on too much about my late husband. I'm working on that.

4. I'm good at meeting strange men for vapid exchanges.

I was with my late husband for 32 years. After he died, I planned to melt into my sofa in a haze of dark chocolate gelato and Nicholas Sparks movies. I'd be the woman in the bourbon-stained bathrobe buying the giant, economy Bombay Sapphire gin and twelve Butterfingers at Bevmo.

But I "got out there." Too much.

Still, I enjoyed the process. Most of the time. Having two or three meet-ups in one day, my multi-tasking skills improved. I can simultaneously text, e-mail, eat pre-made kale soup (fighting weight) and watch "Californication."

Maybe this will prepare me for job interviews. Probably not. But I did feel socially adept. And resilient. Which is far better than isolated without options.

Good bye for now, Ladywriter99.

- Debbie Weiss

Debbie Weiss lives in the San Francisco Bay area where she was a practicing attorney for more than 10 years, which gives her writing a nice tone of bitterness. She is writing a memoir and anti-advice manual about widowhood following her husband's death from cancer in April 2013. It tackles the question of widow's entropy: how did the appliances know my husband had died so they could all break down at once? She writes about dating and other misadventures at www.thehungoverwidow.com.