Last week, I was talking yet again with Queen Frostine about my post-divorce love life.
"Hot Pocket says I'll meet someone—the right someone, but I don't know when or where that's gonna happen," I told her.
"I'm not about platitudes," she replied. "Maybe you'll meet someone, but you might not. I mean, I doubt that's the case, but it's possible you'll never meet a right person again. It probably won't happen in a bar or somewhere similar. You need to try some new places. Maybe you should try online dating."
"Oh gawd no!"
"I don't think I'm that desperate yet!"
She went on to explain that she knew several people who'd had great luck with it. I was dubious at best. I did go that night to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens for Cocktails in the Garden. While the new Imaginary Worlds installations were amazing, all of the men I talked to were either gay or with their partners and children. A couple of guys did look me up and down—with their significant others sitting right next to them. (Seriously, guys? If I see that, I can promise you she does, too.)
I was home by 10:00 that night, eating cereal and watching television while I cried.
I could've stayed in bed all the next day, feeling utter repugnant and rejected, but I went that evening to meet another friend, La Bruja, for happy hour at H. Harper Station. She and I went to high school together, also with Queen Frostine and Growler and so many of the inner circle. She's also divorced, though for longer than I have been. She's dated far more than I have. I mentioned the online dating suggestion.
"Oh, you should totally try it," she encouraged.
She went on to tell me which site she thought was best, how to go about setting up my profile, why I should answer at least fifty of the profile questions, etc. She also had some great stories to share about her own experiences.
I also knew this was something I wanted to research for a character in a planned Junkture book.
So yesterday I went to the site and set up my profile. I included a couple of pictures that I've used publicly before—nothing racy or exceptionally personal. I was very honest on my descriptions of myself and my interests. I took the position that I would be my normal, brutally open self.
My message inbox started to fill up very quickly.
"Hi I wish you lived closer I really like you."
"hi, did you have a fun night?"
"I think I fell in love! Fell for that beautiful smile!"
All day this went on. A few I replied to, though sometimes just to tell them no. Some seemed mildly interesting.
"Hey there lovely. Interested in a younger guy maybe? ;)"
"Would you care to chat with me, gorgeous?"
"Wowwww. Sexy. Yes please."
"Wawww, very nice pics u r so beautiful ;)"
Oh, look! There's a BLOCK button!
I could go on for days about this, especially as the process unfolds. As I started to share some of these posts on my Facebook page, friends excitedly asked if I'd be including this in my next book. Some of it will be, obviously, but there's just so much of it that I'd never be able to do it justice.
So I've decided to start a new blog about my adventures in online dating.
I will still be here, regularly, and I'm sure I'll make reference to Really, Cupid? fairly often. But there is far more to me than what someone may see through an online dating profile. I still have issues to work through, and Muchness and Light is the place I write about my journey and my rediscovery of my muchness.
Feel free to join me on Really, Cupid? and follow along.