the reset button has been tripped.

ok, so about 9months ago, on a rainy saturday afternoon my friend did something silly. after bullying me about joining match.com, and me refusing (no judgement just this, and this and this prove it’s not for me) repeatedly, he signed me up.
he created an account, filled out the profile with his best ‘me’ impersonation, included the requisites (ice cream, love love love, bike rides, parks, place pigalle, astrology, and laughing), uploaded photos from fb and that was that.
then he told me to go on it. that i’d like it. i’d get hooked. i was skeptical. and played around for a few days, logging in to see who looked at my profile. but after a while (read: two weeks tops) it just didn’t feel right. i wasn’t responding to any of the emails. because, well a) i hate formal dates, and b) i wasn’t interested in any of the guys. something like 35 emails, and none of them seemed right. and then i started to get down on myself. and blah blah blah remembered why i don’t do online dating in the first place.
i hate dating. in it’s formal and totally awkward sense. because, well, i have absolutely no idea how to act, and i focus entirely on making sure that everything is good for the other person, and i have extreme weird issues with the rules of a date like paying and making plans, and then um the goodbye. dear lord. it is all so whacky that i become some crazy cuke that looks like steph, sounds like steph, but is absolutely NOT steph. so WHY would i do all of that when the person i’m on some sort of set up date with would not even get to experience me?
also, i’m a sucker for words. i obsess. can’t get enough. so really, it’s totally crazy for me to be reading 75 perfectly crafted paragraphs written by you telling me all about you. because i like stories, and writing, and words, and meaning. so i’m all outta whack with my ‘into you’ radar right off the bat. it’s like excitement transferral.  i mean, let’s just say it how it is. most likely i don’t like you (sorry, it’s just rare that i like people, trust me, it’s worse for me, a curse in fact), but i like the fact that i am reading antagonizingly written prose. carefully crafted words.
so yea. for all of those reasons, i completely forgot all about match.com and my friend’s little experiment. until a few days ago.
i have no idea what made it pop into my head, but i remembered that silly day in march and logged in the account (that’s name is totally NOT wholesomemidwesterngirl sounding, ps.). Read the rest of this entry »