Photo Not Approved.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

10:47 PM  Judge for yourself.

Tonight I joined eHarmony.

No, but really, I did.

I came home from work, got half-way out of my work clothes (I was too tired to finish), climbed into bed, ate some chips for dinner, drank a beer and joined eHarmony.

It wasn't like there was an event that sparked my desire to join.  I wish I could tell you some inspirational story about how a higher power spoke to me and I suddenly knew my destiny was with eHarm.  It was more like I was lying on my bed in front of the tv, trying to balance my empty beer bottle on my stomach when I stopped, picked up the computer, and typed in eHarmony.com, for no reason at all.

I mean, I kind of surprised myself.  Ever since moving to New York, I've fully embraced my single lifestyle.  I haven't really even been dating much -- mostly just reading and not cleaning my room and only shaving my legs when they start to itch.  I was single and SO not looking to mingle.  Until today.

So, whatever.  I join.  They ask me a thousand questions and then they ask for money.  When I got to the money page, I started to have doubts (a year for $20 a month?  Did it really take that long??  How would I feel about this come say, July???), so I texted my wise friend Arianna to tell her what I was doing.  I believe I likened the whole thing to jumping off of a cliff.  So, of course, she didn't respond.  But I knew she wouldn't respond because she has to get up for work every morning at 3:30 AM, and I knew she'd be asleep already.  Thus, I took her lack of response as silent approval and powered on.  It's good to have friends who support you.

But then I had more doubts, so I called my mom and she got super excited and started looking up eHarmony coupons online for me to use.  Then she put my dad on the phone and he asked me if I was shopping for a boyfriend online.  And this all happened after I had listed "friends and family" as two of the top three things I'm thankful for on my eHarm profile.  Figures.

So, I just do it.  One month.  Whatever.  $60 down the drain.  I'm feeling weird about the whole thing, but then...wait!  Seven matches.  SEVEN MATCHES.  The love of my life was less than seven clicks away!  I immediately started clicking on the profiles of these "highly compatible" men.

Aaaaand it took about 3 seconds for me to dismiss them all.

Five out of the seven had names I could not pronounce and profiles with some very broken English.  The two profiles I was able to read contained words like "free-spirited" and phrases like "I like spending time with babies."  I'm not exaggerating.

So, I'm feeling a little disappointed, now out 60 bucks and being told I'm most compatible with what I'm pretty sure was a middle-aged illegal immigrant, when I get an email from eHarm.  Another match, perhaps?!  Lucky number 8??

No.  The email from eHarm was to inform me that the photo I had selected for my profile was not approved based on their "rules regarding attire."  READ:  Tara, if you don't stop dressing like a slut, even WE won't be able to find you a good man.

Now this was really just too much to take, so I signed off, photo-less, and went to take a shower (read: drown myself).

It was in the shower, as I carefully shaved off a week of armpit hair growth (again, not exaggerating), that a quote came to mind, as they often do when I'm feeling pensive.  The quote was from a sticker that my wise, currently-sleeping friend Arianna had once found, taken a photo of, and posted on Facebook.  It reads like a song lyric, or a line from a contemporary poem, or, perhaps, the title of my future memoir:

There is no sex in the city.

Love,

Tara