The Match.com Experience.
It's hard to think of what to say. It wasn't overly successful, but I suppose it was important to have given it a try. When I moved 2000 miles, I knew it would be difficult meeting people. I had this image in my head before I moved, that I would somehow have a personality transplant and take yoga classes and get all join-y with things, and then I'd gather oodles of new friends around me. Maybe if I was in the next Mila Kunis flick or something, that kind of thing would happen. But in the real world, I had to pay $80 and use extra gas and buy myself a few drinks to learn my lesson.
Several of the guys I met were pretty nice. In fact, only one of the guys I met was sort of a douche-bag, which is saying something. The crazies didn't make it past the message-screenings; one guy I was communicating with thought I had a problem with the fact that he was LAPD, and flipped out about it (I didn't). Most of the guys who messaged me were much older, or just weren't a match with me from what they said on their profile. Most of the guys I messaged never responded, so I guess it was the same for them.
I went on eight dates in two months. I'm exhausted. In the last six years leading up to May of 2011, I had been on five dates total. In six years. Eight dates in two months, almost all with different guys, most of whom I'm okay with not hearing from again. The one guy I am a little interested in has sort of disappeared and usually seems fairly unavailable, so I figure he decided he's not interested in seeing me again (kind of a shame, but go figure). So, $80 and change later, I'm back where I was. A little wiser (I hope), not much older, and definitely a little poorer. But, I learned my lesson, and I did the online dating thing.
If any of those guys are reading this, you're all pretty nice. I'm a tough nut to crack, is all. I mean, I've been single for six years, that must say something about me, right? I hope to stay friends with most of you, but you'll move on to more interesting dates than me (I hope). For the guy I hope contacts me . . . well, hopefully you know who you are.