Online dating is exhausting. My best friend isn’t far off when describing it like a full time job. Return on investment is questionable.
One could definitely categorise the profile summaries. Boring. And, the message types. Boring. People are superficial, hypocritical and somewhat predictable. Quite frankly there are easier ways to end up disappointed, hurt and befuddled.
As I said, exhausting!
That said, there are awesome folk out there. The question is, is there someone for you?
Sorry, I haven’t got a clue.
After meeting someone I like and doing the classic too-full-on-and-instigating-every-communication-because- I’m-over-excited approach (fail), I suspect I may never hear from him again (understandably). So, I now have two ways forward (1) message EVERY single guy on there or (2) run an experiment in the name of research for the good of all singletons.
Okay, at the moment I’ve played it safe and slightly crazy with (1), with a little help from a trusted sidekick. However, (2) is hugely appealing. The hypothesis:
The power of the anti-profile will actually attract more men.
There is a small question of irony here but we shall park that for now. The fun part is what does the anti-profile look like. Ready. Sitting comfortably.
Hi my name is Helene and I am bipolar, II to be precise. (in recovery)
I forget birthdays, even for those I have known for years.
I dance like a tit.
I say inappropriate things at inappropriate times.
I will really embarrass you.
I snore really loudly when drunk. (like earplugs needed kinda snoring)
I am a grammar nazi.
Sometimes when I am thinking really hard my eyes go crosseyed.
I am a bit of a dick.
I believe in God. (apparently that isn’t acceptable these days, although genocide is fine I hear.)
I always go arse over tit when trying to be sexy and do a strip tease. (not cool)
I am about to be made homeless and move back in with my mum.
I don’t own a car. (mainly as I don’t drive nor am I fond of partaking in illegal activities)
The correlation between my IQ and dippiness is one of life’s many mysteries.
My top lip is so thin that if you look really closely it’s like it’s missing.
I have stretch marks on my hips, thighs and boobs.
My loud laugh can be heard across a shopping mall.
I’m an outrageous flirt.
I am super lazy when it comes to cooking.
Sometimes I really annoy myself.
I randomly burst into song.
I can’t sing.
So, yes, I am perfectly imperfect. For each of those there are a zillion awesome things about me. The question is, are you still reading?
Maybe I will give it a few more weeks. But, it is tempting. Right?