It is mid-October and Denver is providing one of the most beautiful falls I've had the pleasure to live through. Life here is very different than it was for me in Oregon, but at least I am not being denied the feeling of walking outside and seeing colors so stunning and breathing air so fresh and lovely that I am practically forced to feel joyful. If I can lift my gaze above the strip malls and see the mountains, it is not uncommon for be to be overcome by the splendor of the light as it touches the snow-covered peaks.
I assume none of you will find this shocking, but day-to-day existence in a four-bedroom family home in the suburbs has very little in common with day-to-day existence in a one-bedroom singleton apartment in a downtown urban area. Because I am who I am and tend to, in the words of Steve Windwood, roll with it (baby), it has not been a difficult transition for me (remember, NCG used to travel all over the country living out of suitcases and surviving on hotel happy hour fare). I don't feel terribly homesick and I don't long for a different life. I do know that I probably won't stay here forever, but since that was never the plan, I don't think that will be a disappointment to anyone. I love being with my sister and watching her and her husband parent with such patience and joyfulness. And taking care of my niece has been much more fun than I anticipated. She is a a sweet, sassy, groovy, squalling, squawking little beast of a monkey child, and if anything were to keep me here in the mile-high city, it would be my inability to tear myself away from her shrieks, smiles, and squeezable little cheeklets. I mean, just look at her...come on!
So, despite not being miserable (far from it!), I decided few weeks after I got here to take some steps toward the goal of getting out of the house and seeing a bit of "the real" Denver (which I have heard is great but rarely experience because when I visit I spend all my time at my sister's house watching "Jersey Shore"). One of those steps was activating my Ok Cupid account and configuring the settings to reflect my new surroundings. I have a brief history with this site. I went on two OKC dates before I left Portland (in keeping with my pattern of only wanting to initiate relationships with men whom I cannot actually date, logistically). One became oddly attached to me within 45 minutes and kept saying things like, "I just want to KNOW you!" and awkwardly trying to hold my hand. He sent me several texts afterward to which I responded minimally or not at all, and when he found out I actually had moved (as I explained to him repeatedly I was going to), he messaged regretfully, "We never got to make out :( ." The other guy seemed great but never took his sunglasses off throughout the entire date. I thought that was probably a sign he was a douche, but then told myself not to be so judgmental. Then he turned out to be a huge douche. Score one for female intuition...although, actually, I think a witness of any gender could probably have seen his douchiness coming. Actually, my niece could probably have called that shit. But that is why I needed to go out on these dates, to hone my skills, learn how to deflect the weirdos and identify the creeps.
In Denver, things in the OKC world were different. First of all, almost every single person who messaged me said something about my profile being different than other profiles. My profile was exactly the same as it was in Portland. Only the city was different. No one in Portland ever commented on my profile relative to other profiles. One P-town guy told me I was a hypocrite for claiming to like animals while also claiming to like sushi. Another told me that I seemed depressed and that he hoped I found what was missing in my life (???). But no one ever said I was unique, and I kind of like being told that. Good job, Denver dudes! The second difference that I noticed was that in Denver I received messages from multiple people I actually might want to go out with. I don't know what part of "31-42 and no kids" makes dudes who are 50 and have four teenagers think they should message me, but apparently men in Portland think chicks on OKC don't really mean what they say. Or they just don't read the fine print. Or they just don't care. Or they think they are SO GREAT that if I'd just meet them in person, I would throw out all my crazy, irrational "limitations". In any case, it was nice to get messages from people even remotely in my age range who seemed normal and were not either shirtless and flexing or surrounded by offspring in all their photographs.
So off I went, into the wild blue yonder of "Menver" (as my sister calls it due to the supposed abundance of dick in this town). My sister also warned me of a common phrase she heard from her single friends re: the quality of the men in "Menver": "The odds are good, but the goods are odd." I have to say, several dates in, that that may be true. However, I think anyone who is single in their 30s or 40s bound to be a bit odd, myself included. Patterns have formed without he guiding hand of a partner. Idiosyncrasy has had time and space to really sink in and take hold. I don't think that's a bad thing. Everyone I've met here has seemed very nice, and if they were odd they were odd "interesting," not odd "change your phone number". No one wore sunglasses inside, and no one attempted to hold my hand when I was pressed to the opposite side of a booth and avoiding eye contact. Out of four people I made a very charming connecting with one, and although there has been no subsequent "dating" to speak of, he is smart and fun to hang out with, and sends remarkably entertaining text messages. Considering that I don't plan to live here for very long, I think one new friend out of four attempts is a huge success.
Having experienced a bit of what OKC: Denver Edition had to offer, I decided to deactivate my account again. Despite the fun of meeting enjoyable people and seeing new parts of the city (which I desperately needed to do) I am periodically bothered by the fact that almost all people who are on dating sites either really want to find a partner or really want to find someone to do it with. I am not the answer to either of those prayers. After a while, it feels disconcerting to meet dude after dude and look at profile after profile and realize that each encounter, no matter how small, is attached to someone's private life. By responding or not responding, meeting or not meeting, I in some miniscule way become entangled in their quest for companionship, and that doesn't always feel right. I realize this is a silly thing to get hung up about, and that there is a very clear social contract with the Internet dating thing: no one gets to have any expectations. But I cycle in and out of finding the whole thing either super fun or really stressful, and I think such a low-stakes, optional activity should be fun. Maybe I'll hop back on at some point after...I...get...back...from...INDIA!!! Until then, I've got some planning to concentrate on that does not involve responding to "comparability" questions or uploading Instagram pictures of myself.
Oh, and here is a little parting gift for you readers from the mind of the Portland douche. "All girls who wear white sunglasses are bitches."Apparently he has tasted the rainbow and drawn this conclusion based on pure science; you should all be grateful that he took the time to share this important discovery with you through me. I don't know why OKC doesn't make "sunglass color" a category on their profile. Perhaps I will suggest it if I return to the site. I also don't know why I agreed to go out with someone who would bother to publicly make such a ludicrous observation, but this is where the practice of only dating people when you are about to blow town comes in reeeeal handy. In the words of Liz Phair, fuck and run, baby. Fuck and run.
(Note: Neurocrashgirl did not actually fuck anyone mentioned in this blog post. Liz Phair lyrics referenced for artistic impact and coolness points only.)
I assume none of you will find this shocking, but day-to-day existence in a four-bedroom family home in the suburbs has very little in common with day-to-day existence in a one-bedroom singleton apartment in a downtown urban area. Because I am who I am and tend to, in the words of Steve Windwood, roll with it (baby), it has not been a difficult transition for me (remember, NCG used to travel all over the country living out of suitcases and surviving on hotel happy hour fare). I don't feel terribly homesick and I don't long for a different life. I do know that I probably won't stay here forever, but since that was never the plan, I don't think that will be a disappointment to anyone. I love being with my sister and watching her and her husband parent with such patience and joyfulness. And taking care of my niece has been much more fun than I anticipated. She is a a sweet, sassy, groovy, squalling, squawking little beast of a monkey child, and if anything were to keep me here in the mile-high city, it would be my inability to tear myself away from her shrieks, smiles, and squeezable little cheeklets. I mean, just look at her...come on!
So, despite not being miserable (far from it!), I decided few weeks after I got here to take some steps toward the goal of getting out of the house and seeing a bit of "the real" Denver (which I have heard is great but rarely experience because when I visit I spend all my time at my sister's house watching "Jersey Shore"). One of those steps was activating my Ok Cupid account and configuring the settings to reflect my new surroundings. I have a brief history with this site. I went on two OKC dates before I left Portland (in keeping with my pattern of only wanting to initiate relationships with men whom I cannot actually date, logistically). One became oddly attached to me within 45 minutes and kept saying things like, "I just want to KNOW you!" and awkwardly trying to hold my hand. He sent me several texts afterward to which I responded minimally or not at all, and when he found out I actually had moved (as I explained to him repeatedly I was going to), he messaged regretfully, "We never got to make out :( ." The other guy seemed great but never took his sunglasses off throughout the entire date. I thought that was probably a sign he was a douche, but then told myself not to be so judgmental. Then he turned out to be a huge douche. Score one for female intuition...although, actually, I think a witness of any gender could probably have seen his douchiness coming. Actually, my niece could probably have called that shit. But that is why I needed to go out on these dates, to hone my skills, learn how to deflect the weirdos and identify the creeps.
In Denver, things in the OKC world were different. First of all, almost every single person who messaged me said something about my profile being different than other profiles. My profile was exactly the same as it was in Portland. Only the city was different. No one in Portland ever commented on my profile relative to other profiles. One P-town guy told me I was a hypocrite for claiming to like animals while also claiming to like sushi. Another told me that I seemed depressed and that he hoped I found what was missing in my life (???). But no one ever said I was unique, and I kind of like being told that. Good job, Denver dudes! The second difference that I noticed was that in Denver I received messages from multiple people I actually might want to go out with. I don't know what part of "31-42 and no kids" makes dudes who are 50 and have four teenagers think they should message me, but apparently men in Portland think chicks on OKC don't really mean what they say. Or they just don't read the fine print. Or they just don't care. Or they think they are SO GREAT that if I'd just meet them in person, I would throw out all my crazy, irrational "limitations". In any case, it was nice to get messages from people even remotely in my age range who seemed normal and were not either shirtless and flexing or surrounded by offspring in all their photographs.
So off I went, into the wild blue yonder of "Menver" (as my sister calls it due to the supposed abundance of dick in this town). My sister also warned me of a common phrase she heard from her single friends re: the quality of the men in "Menver": "The odds are good, but the goods are odd." I have to say, several dates in, that that may be true. However, I think anyone who is single in their 30s or 40s bound to be a bit odd, myself included. Patterns have formed without he guiding hand of a partner. Idiosyncrasy has had time and space to really sink in and take hold. I don't think that's a bad thing. Everyone I've met here has seemed very nice, and if they were odd they were odd "interesting," not odd "change your phone number". No one wore sunglasses inside, and no one attempted to hold my hand when I was pressed to the opposite side of a booth and avoiding eye contact. Out of four people I made a very charming connecting with one, and although there has been no subsequent "dating" to speak of, he is smart and fun to hang out with, and sends remarkably entertaining text messages. Considering that I don't plan to live here for very long, I think one new friend out of four attempts is a huge success.
Having experienced a bit of what OKC: Denver Edition had to offer, I decided to deactivate my account again. Despite the fun of meeting enjoyable people and seeing new parts of the city (which I desperately needed to do) I am periodically bothered by the fact that almost all people who are on dating sites either really want to find a partner or really want to find someone to do it with. I am not the answer to either of those prayers. After a while, it feels disconcerting to meet dude after dude and look at profile after profile and realize that each encounter, no matter how small, is attached to someone's private life. By responding or not responding, meeting or not meeting, I in some miniscule way become entangled in their quest for companionship, and that doesn't always feel right. I realize this is a silly thing to get hung up about, and that there is a very clear social contract with the Internet dating thing: no one gets to have any expectations. But I cycle in and out of finding the whole thing either super fun or really stressful, and I think such a low-stakes, optional activity should be fun. Maybe I'll hop back on at some point after...I...get...back...from...INDIA!!! Until then, I've got some planning to concentrate on that does not involve responding to "comparability" questions or uploading Instagram pictures of myself.
Oh, and here is a little parting gift for you readers from the mind of the Portland douche. "All girls who wear white sunglasses are bitches."Apparently he has tasted the rainbow and drawn this conclusion based on pure science; you should all be grateful that he took the time to share this important discovery with you through me. I don't know why OKC doesn't make "sunglass color" a category on their profile. Perhaps I will suggest it if I return to the site. I also don't know why I agreed to go out with someone who would bother to publicly make such a ludicrous observation, but this is where the practice of only dating people when you are about to blow town comes in reeeeal handy. In the words of Liz Phair, fuck and run, baby. Fuck and run.
(Note: Neurocrashgirl did not actually fuck anyone mentioned in this blog post. Liz Phair lyrics referenced for artistic impact and coolness points only.)
