Tuesday, November 4, 2014

For as much as I’d rather be dating than not dating, given the option, there’s also something to be said about the time and cheddah I’ve reclaimed. It’s noticeable, with more flow in cash flow and naps–yes, even naps–feeling all the sweeter. The dry spell hasn’t abated one bit, though part of this is self-inflicted, I suppose. That’s because I’ve been doing a lot of culling recently. There have been moments when I’ve wondered if I’ve blocked someone too soon, or deleted a message too quickly, but then I shrug it off and stay the course.

Whenever the topic of engine differences arises, I explain them as such: eHarmony is like Nordstrom, Match is Belk, and OkCupid is Marshalls. On eHarmony, the screening process culminates with three timed essay questions, if you log in via desktop instead of mobile. I shit you not. It’s like a seminar. Conversely, OkCupid boasts pure tonnage, likely because it’s free to register, but you’ve got to trawl through humanity at large.

I’ve seen things. Learned things, too. I never knew what “pansexual” meant–didn’t even know the word existed, until OkCupid–and I celebrate the English language on a daily basis. Two weeks ago, I would’ve guessed it meant, like, maybe Cuisinart is your whole jam, or Pottery Barn makes you moist. Two weeks ago, I would’ve been dead wrong. But now I know.

The reason why I’ve been ruthlessly blocking is because I’ve made my peace with my shallowness. Sure, the heart wants what the heart wants, to a certain degree. But the heart especially wants what the eyes want, and my brain is fine with that. The four women I’ve met–one from eHarmony, two from OkCupid, one from Match–have all been far more attractive than I am. And if lightning can strike four times, why not a fifth?