Top 5 Don'ts of online dating

I'm no expert on online dating. That's for sure. But I have noticed that A LOT of guys do the same exact off-putting, annoying things. So here they are, a little advice for the men out there: My top five don'ts of online dating.

1. Don't acknowledge the awkwardness of the online thing. Don't start your "About me" section with some disclaimer about how you're "not really sure how this online thing works" or "a friend talked me into signing up" or "I've never done the online thing." Yes, it's weird and awkward. We don't need to TALK about how it's weird and awkward. This is how people meet these days. Yes, even good-looking people who aren't completely socially inept. You date people you meet on the interwebs. Just own it. (This, however, does not mean that when you meet my family I won't tell them that we met in a coffee shop.)

2. Don't post pics of yourself with little children. I see the logic here. Men think all women want and love children. Our uteruses will just ache when we see how adorable you are and how good you are with kids. And we will want to date you. But for those of us who don't want/love children, those pics are kind of weird and creepy. If you must post pics of yourself with kids, please specify your relationship to them. Chances are they are your nieces and nephews, but if you don't state that, I might assume they are yours/your kidnapping victims.

3. Don't use exclamation points! Especially multiple exclamation points!!! Exclamation points are overused and under-felt and it just seems like you are screaming!! Either that or you are insane! Seriously, when I see someone use too many exclamation points, I think to myself: That person is crazy.

4. Don't try to be all things to all people. For example: I am very passionate at times, but I can also be laid back. I love to relax at home but I love going out on the town too. I'm a dog person, but I also love their evil arch nemesis: the cat. Something for everyone! Fun for the whole family! You're multi-faceted. No one can pin you down. I get it. But this also makes you sound crazy. Pick just one personality and go with it.

5. Don't beat around the bush. If you aren't suggesting a real-life, face-to-face meeting after oh about the second or third email, I'm going to get bored and ignore you. The point of this thing is to facilitate meetings in real life so I can see if you are indeed as hot as your pics suggest and if I would have sex with you. I do not need to waste any more time than I already do dicking around online so cut to the fucking chase already. Also, I am even less interested in an awkward half-hour phone conversation with a stranger than I am in continuing to send lengthy getting-to-know-you emails. This is not middle school. I don't spend week nights on the phone chit-chatting with pretend boyfriends. The phone is for making plans to meet up. So don't ask for my number unless you are going to use it to that end!!!!!!!!

This is what it's supposed to look like

So for all you women out there trying to wade through and make sense of the confusing does-he-like-me-are-we-dating-or-just-friends quagmire, I have your answer.

Here's what it's supposed to look like: So I met this guy on Match.com and on the third email he quit beating around the bush and asked me out. (Note to internet daters: I do not need another excuse to dick around and waste time online. This website is to facilitate meeting people in REAL LIFE. I don't need cyber boyfriends. So either ask me the fuck out already or stop emailing me twice a day with your ridiculous small talk and emoticons. Thank you.) We went out for tacos and margaritas. Everything went swimmingly (as far as I was concerned), we had great conversation, had a lot in common and I didn't get too drunk, confess wildly inappropriate stories for a first date or do anything else to horribly embarrass myself.

As he WALKED ME TO MY CAR, (get ready, this part is key) BEFORE THE DATE WAS OFFICIALLY OVER, he ASKED IF I WANTED TO HANG OUT AGAIN. I said yes. Then we hugged and he said he would call me. He texted two days later and said he would be busy studying for finals for the next few days but that he had fun with me and wanted to hang out again.

I texted him after his finals to ask how they went and he IMMEDIATELY CALLED ME and asked what I was doing that night. We ended up meeting for drinks that very night. Then, he walked me to my car again and KISSED ME GOODNIGHT. (As an aside: what the kiss symbolized was way more important than the actual kiss. The actual kiss was clumsy because he was wearing a hat and I was wearing spectacles so we had to maneuver around facial obstacles. Also, it was raining, we were standing in the middle of the road and almost got hit by a car. But that's not the point. The kiss moves our relationship from two strangers, who met on the internets, hanging out in a bar, to hey, I might be romantically interested and might think about dating you.) Translation: I think you are cool/attractive enough to want to hang out with again and the thought of maybe possibly getting naked with you sometime in the near future does not make me recoil in horror.

You know what DOESN'T say that? Fleeing my apartment like it's on fire with barely a goodbye and a one-armed hug with a bike between you. Also, rationing sex doesn't say that (more on that later.)

Then, he TEXTED ME THE NEXT DAY and said he had fun again. He said he wanted to hang out again and that he would call me soon.

Now, I have no reason to believe this will end in anything less than a spectacular implosion like so many other dating scenarios that have become the fodder for this blog. And I'm not even sure yet if I really like him. But I don't even care. Even if I never hear from him again, I will be OVERJOYED that this has at least gotten as far as it has and that this guy seems to GET all of the little social cues and nuances of dating and what you are SUPPOSED to do if you might like someone. He's playing by the rules. He's predictable. He makes sense. He does not leave me scratching my head and cursing the confusing boy behavior. I know where I stand after only two dates.

And THAT is what it's supposed to look like. Write that down.

I got mansplained

Ok so I signed up for online dating. And by I signed up, I mean that drunk me let sober me be talked into it by one of my friends. But I'm on there nonetheless, proclaiming for the world wide web that I am single and ready to mingle. I had second thoughts when the first person to message me was a 35-year-old divorced Catholic with two kids, a place in suburbia and tons of shirtless photos of his tattooed chest. If this is the kind of person who thinks I would date them, Match.com had best review the way it calculates its compatibility algorithms...

One of the guys who messaged me soon after seemed cool enough. We had things in common, he looked really cute in his pics and he was a doctor. I do not see dollar signs when a guy is a doctor, I just figured it meant he was really smart and probably a good person. But I began to get red flags from this guy almost immediately. Douchey red flags.

He asked if I wanted to meet up so I gave him my number so he could call me expressly for that purpose. Instead, he begins texting me really stupid, inane, boring small talk while I'm busy at work. How's your day? Whatcha doing? I'm in Chicago, etc. (Here's the thing: If I have never met you, it's safe to say I do not care what you are up to and do not want to expend the time and brain power on coming up with funny/cute/coy responses to your texts while I'm on deadline. When we've met in real life and I see if you are indeed as hot as your pics suggest, then maybe I will engage in witty repartee. But not before.) I responded to his texts, but curtly.

Three days and 20 texts later, he finally decides on a place and time to meet up. I say, ok, great, see you tomorrow night. The next day he texts me to make sure we are still on. Uh... yeah. We just agreed on this 12 hours ago, remember? Then half an hour before we are supposed to meet he texts and says for me text him when I get to the place so we can walk in together. Hmm... I thought it was understood that when meeting someone, anyone, even friends, the first person to get there generally goes into the establishment, gets a drink or a table or whatever and waits for the other person. But I play along and text him when I get there, then I stand around awkwardly outside a trendy, hip bar while he keeps me waiting for 10 minutes. His douchbaggery thus far has sufficiently turned me off to the point that I no longer even want to meet him, but I silence the voice in my head that is screaming at me to run away while I still can.

Things went downhill from there. Five minutes in I knew I had made a mistake. The "date" consisted of me getting mansplained. For one hour. All men mansplain at one time or another and all women have been mansplained. Boyfriends do it, dads do it, strangers do it. Here's what it looks like: the man stands up taller and puffs out his chest so he can literally talk down to you, his body language suggests he knows waaaay more about whatever topic you are discussing than you do. He's an expert in fact. He sticks his chin in the air. Sometimes he closes his eyes while speaking, dismissing your thoughts and opinions while seething with condescension, all in a tone of voice that says, sit down, silly little girl, let me handle this, you don't want to hurt yourself by thinking complicated thoughts. When guys try to manage your expectations, it's a form of mansplaining.

He lectured to me, talked at me, talked over me, telling me how the world works. For one solid hour.

Here were his major points: Boulder is full of communists who hate dogs, doctors and journalists are a lot alike because they are both dying professions, (couldn't really make the leap on that one) the universal health care bill is bad because (sick) people will be getting something for free, because people are dumb and don't know any better they will go to physicians assistants and nurse practitioners instead of doctors, the city is not friendly to businesses and sets business owners up for failure, he lived in boston, hated it, he lived in the carribean, hated it, he doesn't have all the numbers on the economics of it, but he's SURE composting is bad, people who don't go to college deserve to make $15 an hour (this part was really funny to me, because I would sell my soul for $15 an hour. And although a few of those years were a little fuzzy due to all the 40s we drank, I'm pretty sure I actually went to, and graduated from, college. If he thinks $15 an hour is what people who don't go to college make, he is pretty out of touch with reality. Or at least my reality) Oh and because of some reason, blah, blah, I'd stopped listening, his income goes down by five percent every year. Oh yeah, ouch. I feel for you, doctor.

And here's the kicker: He does surgeries to implant some kind of spinal cord stimulator into people who have chronic pain. (Although he likes this kind of surgery, it's not worth it to him because he has to drive to a different hospital and doesn't get paid enough for it. You can see he went into medicine for all the right reasons.) Then he mentioned that a woman once asked him if he was able to implant one that would allow her to have orgasms whenever she wanted. He said yes, he was able to, but no, he didn't do it.

He would ask me questions about myself and then interrupt me to mansplain how I was wrong or interject his opinion on something he was clueless about. It was especially comical when he started mansplaining all about the journalism industry and how it works and what's wrong with it. He just kept talking. And talking. It was like he paid someone (me) by buying them one drink to sit there and listen to his lectures. And I'm pretty sure his hatred of me was equal, judging by his chilly good-bye as he sent me packing, although I can't figure out why since I barely got one word in the entire time and dutifully nodded my head and pretended to listen...

But here's the best part: As we were leaving he actually said, as if he had some kind of ESP: "You aren't one of those people who writes about their dates and how full of themselves they are, are you?"

No, of course not. You mean people do that?

Relish, Part I

The story with this guy is going to be a multi-parter. He had a funny name. For argument's sake, let's call him Relish, as in the condiment. You know, green, made from pickles?

So we met online and we hung out three times. I still wasn't really sure if I liked him or not, but you know what helps me determine whether I like someone or not? A good make-out session. They always help with judgement calls. So when he asked me to hang out the fourth time, I was really hoping he would ask me to "watch a movie at his place," which everybody knows is code for making out.

But alas, he didnt suggest that. He didn't have a plan at all. He invited me to his neck of the woods and didn't even have date IDEAS. We ended up walking around town and then we ate salads. And we split the check, he didn't offer to pay. All this is fine, but it's also an indication that this is NOT a date.

We go back to his house and I'm still thinking that I've put in my time and paid my dues by enduring four dates worth of obligatory getting-to-know-you small talk and when are we gonna make out already. In fact, four dates worth of small talk and not making out is overkill. I decide I'm gonna elbow my way into his house and see what happens...

So I'm all standing awkwardly in the driveway waiting to be invited inside, you know, like a vampire, and he gets the hint and is all faux-surprised that I'm lingering creepily, pretending like it never occurred to him I might want in and says, "Oh, do you want to come in or do you have to take off?" I think he felt obligated to invite me in because it was only like 8 p.m., but he didn't really want to. Never one to be so easily deterred by something as silly as the fact that a guy clearly wants me to leave, I say, "Well, I can come in for a few minutes."

So we walk past his downstairs bedroom, and he passes up this opportunity to invite me into it to view his childhood photos/matchbox car collection/Led Zeppelin CD box set/whatever other dumb excuse boys use to lure you into their bedrooms so they can get you into bed. So we go upstairs and drink water and stand around his kitchen in self-conscious silence, while his roommates wander in and out. I'm starting to wonder why he even asked me to hang out tonight.

Even though it's only like 8:30 p.m., he's yawning like crazy so I finally admit defeat, and say I gotta go. I realize that I'm getting neither a free salad nor laid tonight. He walks me to my car, kisses me like I'm his Goddamn grandmother (one kiss, way too polite, no tongue, no ass-grabbing) and he says, "I will call you Sunday."

Uh-huh, sure you will. (In today's dating world, "I will call you" has become a blow-off line. It's akin to letting someone down gently. If someone says they will call you, you can be sure they will NOT call you. It's not a lie. It's code. By telling you they will call you, they are letting you know, as nicely as possible, that they WILL NOT be calling you. Nice seeing you, but no thanks.) And keep in mind we had previously discussed hanging out Sunday night. He did not ask to see me Sunday night or try to make plans right then and there, even though he knew I was free, but instead said he would call me.

By the fourth date, shouldn't a guy be trying to get you into bed? That would be the respectable thing to do. So I leave annoyed that I showered for this and 100 percent certain this guy is NOT into me and that I will NOT be hearing from him Sunday, or any other day...

And the Hippos were Soiled in Their Tanks

So I was supposed to go out on like a real date with this guy I had met online. Not like meet for a drink/coffee, but a real date. He planned it and everything. It was to start at the zoo. Since I used to live just a few blocks from the zoo, I thought I would walk there to meet him.

It was a Saturday and I was in super training mode for a half Ironman triathlon, which meant I had gotten up at 5:30 a.m. and ridden my bike 50 miles, followed by an hour run. When I got home, the exhaustion, coupled with the intense heat of my shoebox of an apartment, caused me to fall asleep. For two hours.

I woke up on the couch, still in my tri clothes, already late for the date. There was no time to shower and I just hoped he wouldn't notice all the dog fur sticking to my still-sunscreen-covered, sweaty limbs. I threw on some clothes and deodorant, and ran out the door.

Although driving would be quicker, I decide to stick to my original plan and walk to the zoo. Only now I have to run. Like sprint. I texted the date real quick and said sorry I was running late and that I would be there in a few minutes and proceeded to run the few blocks through the park to the zoo.

Because I wanted to look like a cool hipster I wore the official shoe of the cool hipster: Converse All-Star sneakers. Without socks. And despite what the Harlem Globetrotters say, Chuck Taylors are terrible, terrible athletic shoes. After 100 yards I can feel the blisters forming, but it's too late to turn back now. I hobble the rest of the way to the zoo, half running, half limping. I spot a guy that looks vaguely like the guy in the online pics sitting on a bench. He's dressed a little too nicely for a date at the zoo...

At this point I realize I'm sweating profusely. It's 90 degrees. I have pit stains. I look down at my feet and the blisters have now apparently popped because blood is soaking through my shoes in several spots, turning the blue canvas dark purple. Hopefully he won't notice. I try to walk like a normal human being.

We amble (by amble I mean limp) around the zoo, looking at animals, commenting on how weird/cute/ugly they are and making getting-to-know-you small talk. Then we walk into the inside half of the hippo enclosure where you are able to view the hippos swimming in their pool. No other zoo patrons are inside the hippo house and it immediately becomes clear why. It stinks. Really bad. Not like your typical manure-and-hay farm smell of livestock and zoo animals, but really, really horrible. Like something died. There is hippo poop everywhere and it's obvious this animal is experiencing some severe digestive problems. This, coupled with the stifling afternoon heat and humidity from the water is too much. We can't just ignore it. The situation must be acknowledged.

You know what's more awkward on a first date than talking about a hippo swimming around in its own diarrhea and speculating about what it must have eaten? I'll tell you. Going to a sushi restaurant and trying unsuccessfully to stifle giggles as you discuss ordering rolls with names like "Multiple Orgasm," "Booty Call," "69," "Climax," and my personal favorite, "Foreplay." Yeah, I'm 12.

And this was a fancy sushi restaurant in a swanky part of town that people like me have no business being in. I was waaay under-dressed because he didn't tell me we were going there. He just made a reservation and it was a really fun surprise when we show up in the part of town where all the Botoxed women wear high heels and clothes that accentuate their boob jobs to run mundane daily errands, like going to the grocery store. (VH1 NEEDS to take its Real Housewives series to this part of town.)

Needless to say, this was not a place where someone can show up unshowered, wearing their bloody Converse All Stars, sweaty tank top and jean shorts. Did I mention I was wearing jean shorts? Yeah, I was. Not like the short, cut-off, trashy kind, but the longish kind that are too tight to fit a cell phone in the pocket and make it difficult to ride a bike/run to the zoo in. Not that this in any way excuses wearing jean shorts. I told you, I had just woken up.

I'm pretty sure the restaurant had a dress code and that's why we were forced to eat on the patio. The air-conditioned dining room was apparently reserved for diners who don't look all homeless-hipster chic.

Anyway, by now my feet hurt, I'm still sweating, I'm not even drunk and all this pretending that this ill-fated date is actually super fun is exhausting. So I gave up. Against my better judgement, after seriously considering taking my shoes off and walking home barefoot, and without knowing for sure that this guy wasn't a serial killer, I let him give me a ride home.

Amazingly, this guy called me again so maybe I wasn't as much of a hot mess as I thought I was. He was nice and interesting and all, no complaints there. But the embarrassment of that afternoon of horrors was too much for me to ever face him again.

I don't know what it is, but talking about poop and sex with strangers, followed by an impromptu trip to the nice part of town never fails to make me feel awkward.

Top 10 Deal Breakers for eHarmony users

How fitting that the NYT should post this health blog (the real question is what is this doing on a health blog in the New York Times and not in some pop psychology segment on E!) about relationship deal breakers not only just a few days after I started my own blog about deal breakers, but also just a few weeks after I quit the online dating service eHarmony, or as I like to call it, eDesperate.

The focus of this blog is on a portion of eHarmony called "Must Haves" and "Can't Stands." I never liked this particular feature of the site because I thought it was too reductive and judgmental and antagonistic, so I tended to ignore this part when communicating with potential mates. According to an analysis of eHarmony users, out of 50 options, the top four "Must Haves" were the same for men and women: 1. sense of humor, 2. chemistry, 3. affectionate, 4. communicator. But from there, differences emerge.

Included on the women's side, but absent from the men's are being financially responsible and being committed to marriage, home and family. Included on the men's side and absent from the women's side were being passionate and having patience. Translation: women want a man with money (financially responsible) who will provide for a family (committed to marriage and children) and men want a woman who likes sex (passion) and will put up with their bullshit (patience).

Now on to the deal breakers. Both sexes hate lying, cheating and being rude. And really, who doesn't? What's interesting is that for men, the fourth thing they can't stand is poor hygiene. It trumps being angry, mean spirited, using illegal drugs and infidelity. My question is: Who the heck are these people dating? This isn't junior high where the school nurse has to come talk to the smelly kid about his BO. Most adults I know can somehow manage to bathe, brush their teeth, use deodorant and put on clean clothes on a somewhat regular, if not daily, basis.

I don't think this one is referring to general cleanliness or even embarrassing housekeeping things some of us let slide, like the pile of dog fur that has accumulated on my bed. Translation: Men like woman who will shave their legs, wear make-up, dress up and do their nails and hair. By calling these things, collectively, "hygiene" eHarmony lets them off the hook for being shallow or sexist.

Also, coming in at number eight, men can't stand someone who is excessively overweight, thereby contributing to the unrealistic expectation that American women be slim and chipping away at my body image and self-worth. Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I, too, put on my list that I could not stand someone who is excessively overweight. But I felt bad about it. And judgmental. And I only added it because if someone is overweight, they will have trouble keeping up when we climb 14-ers and do 100-mile bike rides. And that just gets annoying.

Rounding out the top-10 list, at numbers nine and 10, both sexes can't stand someone who is lazy, defined as "someone who likes to spend excessive time sleeping, resting or being a couch potato," which is interesting to me since I got matched with A LOT of guys who said they liked to "sleep in," "hang out" and "clean out their cars" on the weekends. Real go-getters they were.

So anyway, the results just tell us what eDesperate users must have/can't stand in a mate. But they also reveal that the people on this site, in general, still abide by some traditional gender roles and stereotypes...