Date Machine

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  • Love Machine: Using Your Words, or I Like Pap

    I usually begin all of my emails with "heyo." I'm not sure how I got into this habit. That word isn't a part of my spoken vernacular at all, and I can't think of anyone I know who used it with me first. It's entirely opaque. It sounds arcane, like something an uncle would say in some dusty reference to Archie comics. It's breezy and has some suggested energy behind it, like the thoughtless greeting that a friend would give you while preoccupied with the lingering tentacles of some past task. It's also deeply affectionate. With some people I use the word like a casual brushback to show indifference, but with others, it's a little caress, a gentle thumb stroke across the chin.

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  • Date Night: The story of the one that got away.

     

    We exchanged emails back and forth and decided to meet for a drink at a restaurant. He was younger than me, according to his profile by about 5 years, but actually my guess would be more like a decade. Fresh faced did not even begin to describe it.

    His conversation was stilted. I felt like I was being interviewed for the position of his (older) girlfriend and I don't do "interview" dates. In case it's escaped you whilst reading my blog, I have a lot to say and conversation tends to flow rather than having to be compartmentalised into "what do you do?" and "where did you go to college?" etc

    I tried freestyle, but my date didn't seem comfortable with the format. Truth be told, he didn't seem comfortable at all.

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  • Love Machine: How I Date on the Internet

    Dating on the internet is both impossible and absurdly easy. As Zetgeisty noted, it's the simplest way in the world to create the illusion of a social life for yourself. It's something that's fundamentally unfulfilling because it makes something unquantifiable fit into a query boxes. Even in the best of circumstances, there is always a vague sense of disappointment when you meet someone you've been talking to on a dating site.

    All the time and energy spent exchanging emails and phone calls in the buildup to going on a date can be fun and alluring, but it's tantamount to shadowboxing. It's two strangers talking to themselves willfully consenting to let the other to use the vagaries of their lives as a psychic swank rag. When you finally get to meet in real life and realize that the magically sensitive and charming person who was such a delight in your inbox on Tuesday mornings has now become a slouching mouth-breather with just a few too many freckles, how can you not feel disappointed? I've accumulated some simple tactics you can use to stop delegating the ups and downs of your romantic life to relative strangers over the internet.

     

      

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ABOUT THE BLOG

DATE MACHINE explores the triumphs and tragedies of your dating confessions. Look here for commentary, dating advice, and our own salacious (or ridiculous) dating stories.

OUR BLOGGERS

FishnetsAndLight

Professional Dominatrix, lapsed English major and token black chick extraordinaire. I'm also a great big perv. Bend over.

Location:New York, New York
Looking for: Those who aren't too afraid.

Zeitgeisty

I'm an existentialist trapped in the body of a rational humanist. I've got a penchant for misanthropy and a flair for the obvious. I'm quick with a joke or a light up your smoke, but there's someplace that I'd rather be. I'm Zeitgeisty, pleased to meet me I'm sure. Visit my blog at www.walruscomix.com/zeitgeisty.

Location: Somewhere on the isle of Manhattan...
Looking for: A shining good deed in a weary world...

Airheadgenius

I am a fish out of water - an opinionated cheeky smiling English chick in a land of larger than life Americans. I don't understand the culture. I don't understand asking if we're exclusive. I don't understand this weird practice of decapitating penises. Some days I am definitely MILF material. Other days I feel more like the material on the inside of yer grannys' handbag.

Location: Brooklyn
Looking for: A stunning socialist with a propensity to pick winning lottery numbers

amboabe

I'm a smart ass writer who'll argue your ear off, hold your hand close, and tell you the truth whenever. I'm a fool and a hero, a confessional soul, and lover of life in every conceivably absurd way that it can come. I also paint my toenails.

Location: San Francisco
Looking for: A sail, not an anchor.

spjv840

Slightly neurotic, over-analyzing girl..err, woman, with too much charm for the average person to handle. Has a fondness for red wine, cheap beer and a good time.

Location: The Igloo, Canada
Looking for: Nothing mediocre

Nerve Pesronals

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