Unexpected outcomes

I have a confession to make. About a month and a half ago, I went in search of what has become the somewhat funny, slightly exasperating and altogether ridiculous adventure of my summer and fall: I signed up for OkCupid.com. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with the name, it's a dating site - a free one, which is the only thing that made me okay with signing up for it.)

"Why would you do such a thing?" you might ask. Well, at the beginning of August, I decided that my summer was going fairly well but had been progressing rather un-interestingly. After a jam-packed schedule from mid-April to early July, the August lull had me a bit bored, especially since my friends all seemed to be out of town or at weddings every weekend. And of course, no one in Washington talks to anyone they don't already know without being introduced, making the possibility of new acquaintances out of the question.

I've long scorned the idea of online dating. Using a series of arbitrary questions to electronically determine your compatibility with complete strangers? What's the point? But the lack of friends in town to hang out with also made me acutely aware of the fact that I hadn't been on a date in about nine months (yes, really), and that the last guy who had asked me out for drinks and a movie - who remains a friend, and someone I thoroughly enjoy talking to - has been married for several months now. This is getting pathetic, I thought. I'm 24, fairly intelligent, reasonably attractive and a nice person; there's no reason I shouldn't be dating, if I want to be. I'll sign up and just lurk for a while - see what's going on, and how this whole thing works. There's no law that says I have to go out with someone, or even talk to anyone, just because I sign up. And if all else fails, I can blog about it, right? Right.

Two hours after I created my profile, I had a dozen messages in my OkCupid inbox and was bombarded by instant messages - the site has a chat client similar to the one Google built into GMail - the second I signed in. (Obviously, Washington's "dating scene" exists solely online. Very strange.) I felt a little overwhelmed, but not brave enough to be so rude as to ignore the messages. So much for lurking!

I have to admit, as websites go, I like OkCupid. Their staff has a tongue-in-cheek sense of humor that manifests itself in things like the "Stalkers" page, where you can see everyone who's viewed your profile, when they viewed it and whether or not they're on the site at the moment. (They've since changed the page to the more politically correct "Visitors," which I think is a shame.) They're also the same people behind that gigantic "The Purity Test" that made the rounds of every teenage inbox when I was in high school, which means there are all kinds of fun quizzes you can take to pigeonhole yourself on the site.

And it turns out guys are guys, online or off. There are the sleazeballs, who send completely impersonal "Hey good-lookin'"-type messages that make me roll my eyes and click "delete" without looking up their profiles, since they clearly haven't read mine (just like I ignore guys with the poor taste to whistle at me on the street). There are the earnest ones who try just a little too hard, referencing every single movie I mentioned as a favorite. There are the creepy late-30- to 40-somethings who don't seem to understand that the fact that they were graduating high school (or college) when I was born is not and will never be attractive. There are the ones who come off as brain-dead because "lol" is their sole form of punctuation and they end every phrase with some variation of "haha, srsly?" There are the sexists, who message me and then fade away when it becomes evident that I'm not interested in agreeing with their conservative socio-political viewpoints or being their trophy date. And there are the interesting ones, who message me because something in my profile (other than my picture) really interested them, and with whom talking can be an exercise in happily discovering common ground.

I've gone on actual dates with a few in that last category, and for the most part I've had a good time, whether or not either of us has opted for date two. The transition from chatting online or exchanging emails can be a little strange but then, what's a first date without some awkward silences? And it feels good to be dating again.

What I didn't expect was how overwhelmed I would feel, and how often I would find myself saying no or taking a week or more to respond to people. (On the plus side, practicing saying no is good for me, since I tend to do anything possible to avoid being unpleasant, and have in the past sometimes been of the "Oh, you like me? Really? I should totally go out with you, then!" school, which is unhealthy and rather embarassing to admit.)

Nor did I expect the moments of nervous pessimism that seem to hit 24 hours before a date and have my brain and the butterflies in my stomach uniting to make my fingers twitch toward the phone or keyboard to cancel. The battle between nerves and sense goes something like this:

Nerves/Butterflies: You're not ready for this.
Common Sense: Yes you are, you idiot, you've been single for almost a year and a half.
Nerves/Butterflies: It's been too long, you can't date. You've never actually "dated," you've only been in relationships, what are you thinking?
Common Sense: So what better time to start? And that it's been too long is the point. Duh.
Nerves/Butterflies: But...but...
Common Sense: You are not canceling! End of story!
Nerves/Butterflies: whimper

But the most unexpected part of this whole dating experiment is that I've realized I'm truly happy being single. I'm not placeholder happy, waiting for the next guy to come along. I'm not "really, I'm fine!" happy, trying to convince myself and everyone else. I'm not even "I hate boys"/good riddance happy. I'm happy. Period. It's a fantastic feeling.

I'll probably stay on OkCupid for now - meeting new people you have a lot in common with is never a bad thing and being happy single doesn't mean I can't enjoy an occasional date. But I've realized that it's pretty much going to take a bolt of lightning striking when I meet someone to convince me to get back into the relationship game anytime soon. For now I'm having too much fun just being me, happy. And I can't think of any place I'd rather be.