Sunday, November 3rd, 2013

I did something today that I’ve always railed against. I feel like such a hypocrite for doing it. But something had to be done. I need a distraction — or distractions — and this was the best way of getting them.

I signed up for OKCupid.

In general, online dating depresses me. I’m still in my prime. I’m not hideous. I shouldn’t have to resort to a website to find a guy. But sadly, in the twenty-first century (and especially in New York City), online dating has become the norm.

I don’t like it!

Just last night I offended this guy at a party because I was deriding online dating, and now this afternoon, I’m a full-fledged member of the community. How desperate I’ve become.

It’s just OKCupid, though. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. It’s the least skeezy of the online dating platforms. I’m not jumping onto Grindr anytime soon. I’m looking for dates, not sex.

Even though I’m not necessarily ready to get back into a relationship, I need the bright outlook of meeting someone new and maybe, just maybe, finding that I actually like them. And perhaps I’m also hoping that these dates will erode my lingering feelings for you. Meeting new people could make me realize just how many eligible guys there are out there. But then it could also make me realize that most guys are garbage and I’ve really missed my chance by losing you…

I’m banking that the odds will be in my favor and there will be more than just one (i.e. you) worthwhile gay man in the City.

Joining OKCupid will also give me some much-needed dating practice.  (Can you tell that I had to make a list of pros and cons to convince myself to sign-up for this?) I haven’t been on a date in years! And I’ve never casually dated. With me it’s always:

1.) Meet a guy I like

2.) Have a serious boyfriend

I wonder what it’s like to date casually. To have two or three guys that you’re seeing at the same time. Lots of dinners and drinks, I imagine. And tons of stress trying to keep them all separate and unknown to each other. But all of my friends who date make it sound so fun. I really do want to give it a try. And what better opportunity than when I’m newly single?

Going on online dates also could help quench another certain craving that we gay men have. I don’t think that I’m going to meet Mr Right on OKCupid, but as someone who doesn’t like to have casual sex with strangers I’ve just met at a bar, I’m totally fine having casual sex with someone I’ve been on like two or three dates with. If I’ve been out with someone a couple of times, then they’ve passed the crazy test — and not the “I’m head over heels crazy about you” test, but the “I trust that  you’re not a klepto who’s going to sneak out in the middle of the night after stealing all of my shit” test. 

Filling out that profile took me most of the afternoon, though. God! Why do people need to know so much? It’s like applying to college, writing all those personal essays. Only it’s harder because you have to make yourself sound pithy and deep at the same time.

And then I had to find five or six acceptable pictures of myself, ones that say “I’m handsome and fun and approachable and smart and not a serial killer.” I don’t have many pictures that say all that. And I know, just as well as everyone else, that your picture is what’s going to sell you.

And then the survey questions!?!? Why do I need to answer hundreds of inane questions about myself and what I’d do in certain situations? I didn’t even know the answer to most of them and just started making things up. Is that really going to make for an accurate matching score? I’m convinced those compatibility percentages are bullshit anyways. Do people even take those into account when they click on a profile? What’s too little? Too much? Am I looking for 90% and up only? Or is it more of a 65%-85% range for the ideal date?

I guess I’ll find out. For better or for worse, OKCupid, here I come.


Sunday, October 20th, 2013

Do you ever think about me?

I wonder, because I think about you a lot still. I imagine that you don’t think about me anymore. But isn’t that what all dumped boyfriends think? You did have a two month head start on getting over me, since it took you that long to actually break up with after you knew you wanted to. So maybe in two more months I’ll have moved on and not think about you anymore.

I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, though.

I don’t want to forget the time we spent together. It’s probably been the best year and a half of my life. That doesn’t take much when you’re only twenty-five, I guess. But still, I don’t want to forget about you completely.

Then again, every time I think about you now I get a queasy feeling like all the air’s been knocked out of me. I want to get to a place where I don’t miss you but where I still remember you. That seems impossible right now. But maybe over time my feelings will morph into something sweeter – nostalgia or fond memories of the past. Maybe I won’t feel the same pricks of pain when I think about you.

Still, I wish I knew whether or not you thought about me. It’d be a good thermometer to know how long I’m going to feel the pain of missing you.

Saturday, August 24th, 2013

One of my bad habits — as I’m sure you’ve noticed over the last year and a half — is that I’m really lazy when it comes to doing little chores. Yes, I can be lazy about big chores, too. I’ve never been very good at cleaning.  (Unless it’s the kitchen which you know I like to keep spotless. Like obsessively so. I’ve taken knives and forks to a dirty stove top in an attempt to scratch off persistent stains.) And I might delay particularly daunting tasks at work. But I always get them done eventually, even if it takes four or five reminders. When I talk about my bad habit I’m talking in regards to minor chores, made all the worse because these little things aren’t hard to do at all. I’m just super lazy.

Let me give you an example. For whatever reason, my pass card at work didn’t work correctly. I had less access than the summer interns! I couldn’t get into my offices before nine or after five…which is a problem but also a rationalization for coming into work a little late and always leaving on time. All it takes to get this little problem fixed is an email to our building manager, an email that I was too lazy to send…for almost a year! That’s like criminal, I know. My work pass didn’t work for twelve months all because I was too lazy to type a simple email and CC my boss for approval. This is what I mean when I say I have a bad habit of getting little chores done.

But that’s all changing.

Yesterday morning I sent that email to my building manager and not ten minutes later I had full access. Why did that take me so long to fix? It was so easy at the end. This success is making me realize that there are a lot of little things that I’ve been pushing off that I’m going to get done now.

I’ve needed new glasses forever. My current pair is from back when I was eighteen and is disgustingly outdated. Even my optometrist makes fun of them, saying that no one even makes that style anymore. He’s a sixty-five-year-old man and has more ocular fashion sense than me!

As of this morning, my new pair is ordered.

You used to always complain that I didn’t have a hand towel in my bathroom…I made a trip to Target and got one today, along with those stick-on wall hooks. Now my bathroom is tricked out, ready for hand/face drying.

You also used to complain that I only had two pillows on my bed. You have six on yours, which I admit is nice and comfy. My trip to Target also yielded two new pillows. Now I have four, enough for both of us to have one under our heads and between our legs (this second pillow for back support, you taught me), though you have no plans to ever stay over again. So I guess that means I have four pillows now for just myself. It will help fill out the bed so I don’t miss your presence so much.

I also ordered a chaise lounge. (I know. It sounds kind of silly. But there’s nowhere to sit in my room except on the bed which isn’t the most comfortable unless I’m actually sleeping.) It’s a wonderful little black fainting couch. I can’t wait for it to arrive. I really think it’s going to tie my room together. I’m going to set it over near my bookshelf ledge so I can just lounge and read all day, everyday. Throw in some grapes and a palm frond and I’ve got the ancient Greek lifestyle all to myself.

I guess with all of these little changes, I’m trying to make my room comfortable for visitors. For you. No wonder you rarely wanted to come over. We spent most of our nights together at your place where you have a home set up. You have six pillows and hand towels in the bathroom. Artwork on the walls and carpets on the floors. You have a welcoming apartment. I don’t.

Checking all of these little things off of my chore list wasn’t for purely selfish reasons. It’s my way of showing you that I can change, of trying to snap out of my doldrums and make my room more inviting both to myself and to you, in whatever non-relationship the future holds for us. We still haven’t had our talk, so in my mind we haven’t broken up irrevocably yet. Maybe we’ll exchange our stuff at my apartment, in my room, where you’ll sit on my new chaise lounge and marvel at how things are better. Maybe you’ll change your mind about ending things…

Either way, I’m going to be spending a lot more time at home, so i guess it’s a good thing I’m getting that chaise lounge. Now to find someone willing to feed me grapes by hand…I’m off to Craigslist.