Hungry for Love: Hitting the Wall

Oh my God! Online dating is so awful!

Of course, I already knew that, but each new attempt is that much more harrowing.

Arbitrary, time sucking and totally fruitless, after four or five months on OKCupid, tonight I hit the wall. With only one lame date to show for my investment and the lingering sting of being told I was only "good looking," I found my finger hovering over the "Delete profile" button and reminiscing on my return to the cyber-dating wasteland.

A few months ago, I didn't think it could get any worse than the guy who listened to "rape," but damn was I wrong.

There have been a number of humdingers, but here are the greatest hits when it came to low points on (sigh) "Ohhh-kay Cupid".

May I present "Heretopleaseyou," the black guy who said his name was Chris but wouldn't give a last name and refused to send any photos because, as he looooved to tell me over and over and over and over again, he was so famous. I'd like to believe it was Chris Rock, but he was probably Chris Brown. He asked me to meet him for sex, no drinks, no dinner, no conversation. I said if he was as well known as he claimed, he could find that at any bar, grocery store or gas station in town. He's probably trolling Craigslist as I type. Another 50-plus-year-old man kept sending me IMs asking me if I'd like to go sailing and calling me "doll." He looked like Albert Finney and made me cringe. A lesbian started sending me messages every time I logged in, ignoring the clear indication that I was straight and only interested in men. Plus, she looked nothing like Mila Kunis is Black Swan and therefore got blocked quickly. More than one man sent me a message saying, "I'm going to be honest--I'm not interested in anything serious, but you seem like a lot of fun so let me know if you wanna chat." "Fun" has always been a dubious distinction in my mind. It implies a put-on carefree savoir faire that makes me think of Rizzo in Grease singing "There Are Worst Things I Could Do." I didn't write to any of them. Of the two attractive men who got in touch with me, one never responded beyond our second email and the other started talking about my nipples within two minutes of our first conversation. Is it any wonder these people are still single? They're totally heinous and dysfunctional.

Scrolling, page after page, hoping I'd stumble upon someone who could fulfill my hopes and dreams and prove that all those people who insist online dating is viable weren't ignoramuses, or, worse, uppity a-holes already in committed relationships (none of which started online), here's what I've discovered thus far:

1. Never fall for a guy wearing sunglasses in his profile picture. Everyone looks sexier in sunglasses. It's like posing with a cigarette; you're suddenly more alluring, worldly and seductive. See: James Dean, Rita Hayworth in Gilda.

2. Never trust a guy wearing a hat in his profile picture. Much like sunglasses, just about every man in the world looks better in a hat, especially a baseball cap (words my friend Jenny lives and dies by). Plus, dollars to donuts, that dude is bald or on his way and that's why he's covering up.

3. Subtract (at least) one-two inches from the height they claim. If a man says he's 5'9, he's 5'7. Maybe 5'6.

4. Sending an email will almost never illicit a response. Even in the warped online dating arena, men like the chase.

With nothing to show for my time and a general sense of misery every time I typed in my ID and password, why was I unable to make that final click, sending my profile into internet oblivion?

Because I'm sitting on my couch, eating out of styrofoam, watching Grey's Anatomy, on a serious losing streak of celibacy. I need a frickin' man in my life and since none have the balls to do anything beyond play a little grab ass when emboldened by liquor, I've been proverbially "putting myself out there." This way, when family friends or, worse yet, my mother, ask why I'm still single, I can honestly say I'm trying.

But then I got this poem from one man who was attempting to court me:

"Tubas to the face.
Spit valves emptied on your toes.
The night swayed and sweat dripped from the walls.
It was hard to tell performers from audience
as a cluster of bodies and brass pulsed in unison.
Every once in a while a form would appear from the wreckage to find their way to the bar. Missing a limb and ear drums draped to their knees.
Only music that can create this mess."

Ooookay.

I'm not really a poetry girl, but I reread the verses, trying to conjure a smoky, subterranean coffee house where everyone is in black turtlenecks and berets, a bongo player punctuating each line with a rapped beat. I could get into that. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not, but I was trying to tell myself that this guy couldn't be that bad, and just as I was on the verge of convincing myself to give the guy a chance over a cup of coffee, I got a follow up:

"Gum spots on concrete and the smell of hot dogs draped in bacon.
Fixed gear bikers intermingle with El Salvadorian line cooks.
Everyone displayed like an art piece under the fog-lights
On the ride home I think about jogging with coyotes and singing to deer.
Instead it was a sentimental cat that followed me on my walk home.
Now rainbow chard is a cute vegetable.
Especially when intermixed with garlic and ginger."

I wrote this response:

"Like smoky fires flickering
At burning man
The smell of patchouli wafts
Like smoke from your bong.
I read these words and wonder;
Are you reading a Karma Sutra
While practicing tai chi
And hugging a tree?
B.O. and compost piles
That is the smell of our love.
Snap snap snap snap
Clapping ain’t allowed.
I misread you terribly
You are not the man for me."

I erased it before I sent it, not wanting to hurt the poor guy's feelings. Instead, I moved my hovering finger a few inches to the right and clicked, "Disable Account."

Ok Cupid, I think we need some space. And I need a drink!

Blackberry Green Tea Mojito
Serves 4-6

These are my new obsession because they're delicous, refreshing and, one might argue, almost good for you thanks to plenty of antioxidants.

1 1/2 cups loosely packed mint leaves, chopped
Juice of 2 limes
Juice of 2 lemons
6 teaspoons superfine sugar
1/2 cup brewed green tea, chilled
1 cup blackberries, muddled (raspberries, blueberries or fresh chopped peach can be substituted)
1-1 1/2 cups light rum (use 1/4 cup per person)
Soda water

In a large pitcher, combine mint, lime and lemon juice and superfine sugar, stirring until sugar dissolves. Pour in green tea, muddled blackberries and rum.
Fill glasses with ice and add Mojito mix, filling glasses 3/4 of the way. Top with splash of soda water and serve.

Post-Halloween Purging: A Diet and a Dating Site

You know Spring Cleaning? Well, I'm Fall Purging. It's time to clean, cleanse and turn over some new leaves.

When I was younger, Halloween was my favorite holiday. These days, Thanksgiving tends to trump it, but I still have mad love for any institution that mandates diabetic-coma levels of sugar consumption.

Because I've been crazy busy, for the second year in a row I was unable to pull together my dream costume (Richard Simmons), but I did manage to rally for Underwood Farms' Harvest Festival with Ana and Kyle.

In the arts and crafts section, between their namesake pumpkin butter and zesty bean soup mix, Ana found a conspicuous addition. Ummm, which of these things (though delicious) is not like the other?

Between the bluegrass stage and the haywagon, we ducked into the corn maze, which was extra muddy thanks to a little nighttime rain...

But that didn't stop us from conquering it...

Maze complete, we rewarded ourselves with some kettle korn and this amazing homemade orange cranberry bread...

Which kind of made me feel like a heffer, which this cow is, despite the horns. A beautiful Scottish highlander heffer.

The next day was actual Halloween and this year it felt less festive than usual. Maybe that was because I've been so overworked and exhausted lately. Maybe it's because I just wasn't in the mood. Or maybe it's because I didn't have anyone to celebrate it with. You know you're a sad single lady when your idea of a Halloween portrait involves you and your pet holding a mini pumpkin.

No matter how foxy Swayze is in this photo, and, let's be honest, he is dead sexy, after taking it, I realized my life had taken a turn toward all those awful Cathy comic cliches, so easily poked fun at. Single lady, in her 30s, with a cat and no man.

"It's not so bad," I thought to myself, as I packed up some baked goods and Chinese food to visit the Molnars, my friends who are married with a baby, only realizing upon arrival that I was once again the third wheel to one couple and one family.

Feeling a bit worse for the wear, I met up with Rachel and struck out for West Hollywood's Halloween parade where drag queens rule the streets and freaks come out in droves. There would surely be safety in this crowd of 500,000...

But wouldn't you know it, in this throbbing sea of half a million, I saw the last guy I dated. With his new girlfriend.

Salt meet wound.

And that was when I decided it was time to make some changes.

Change #1: I need to lay off the sweets for a little while (she types after finishing a box of Munch 'n' Crunch). No more eating my feelings. The last thing I need right now is to be chubby and single.

Change #2: Despite my serious reservations and previous failures on JDate, Match.com and Salon Personals, I signed up for an online dating site today. Since only one man in a year asked me out on a date, I need to Wu-Tang Financial this ass and diversify my bonds by making myself more available.

Of course, it's only been 12 hours and already I'm regretting it. The very first match the site offered me was a guy I've actually noticed several times at my favorite Starbucks. We've spoken a few times, exchanged names and smiles, and I've started working there more often in the hopes of seeing him. "This is fate!" I thought when he popped up. So I sent him a brief message. Hours later and he's since been on the site, looked at my profile, read my message and not written back. Burn! Such an internet BURN!

So now I'm sitting on my couch, Swayze on my lap, being haunted by two other former hookups (long story), thinking, How can I make myself feel better?

And here's what I've decided: I'm gonna cleanse.

None of this ridiculous maple syrup and cayenne nonsense. I'm just going to eat clean, organic food for the next few days. No mas Red Bull. No mas sugar. No mas Munch 'n' Crunch. Just fruits, vegetables, broths and water.

I'll start tomorrow with my favorite quinoa breakfast cereal and hopefully by week's end I'll be happier, healthier and a little less emotionally bruised.

Oh, and change #3: I just deleted all my exes' numbers from my phone. Because, really, who needs those anyway?

Keep it Clean Quinoa

makes 4-6 servings

2 cups water
1 cup organic red quinoa
1 tablespoon maple syrup or honey
1/4 cup walnuts
1/4 cup almonds
1/4 cup golden raisins
1/4 cup raisins
pinch of salt

Rinse quinoa well and place in a medium sized pot with all the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cover and reduce to simmer. Cook until water is absorbed and quinoa is al dente (about 15-20 minutes).

Serve warm or cold with a splash of almond or soy milk

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