Before you start commenting that I have to give it time and be active, yada, yada, yada, just calm down. I AM giving it time. I am being active. I’m staying positive. Even when there are few people to be positive about. But I’m letting Chemistry work their magic and match me with me Mr. Right. Or Mr. Right Now. I’m not picky. (That’s a lie. I am picky. Nothing wrong with being picky, says the 30-something singleton with two cats.)

But I have had some um, let’s say interesting matches. We may have similar personalities and match up, but I can’t get past these weirdos to even explore it. (Go ahead and call me shallow. It won’t hurt.)

First up was the dude who was cute and nice and the right age. But then when I got to his profile he revealed he lived with his parents. At first I thought maybe I could get past that. But then I realized that really, if you’re 31 and living at home without extenuating circumstances, then it is time to grow up and move out. The way he put it was all “I still live at home, so if this is an issue, good luck with your search YOU SHALLOW, HEARTLESS TROLL!” My thought was if you’re going to mention it in the profile (which, good on you for being honest) and you are living at home for a good reason (like you’re taking care of your sick parent, etc.) then you would probably also mention that., no? So I judged (possibly wrongly so) that he was just lazy and didn’t want to pay rent and a mama’s boy.

Judgey McJudgerson, party of one.

NEXT!

So then there is Zak. Zak claims to be a former actor and model. ZAK ALSO LIKES TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS. I imagine he’s quite SHOUTY in person. Also, he freaked me out. Freaky whitish-blonde hair ahead!

Zak is also sucking in his stomach in that photo. I CANNOT GET PAST THE WHITE HAIR AND EYEBROWS! Or that he calls himself ICEMAN.

NEXT!

And then there is my most favorite of all. His name is Michael. He actually seemed like a good fit. We seemed to have the same interests and he was decent looking. Just to make sure he wasn’t posting photos from years ago, I made sure to scroll through all the photos he had put up in his profile. And then I hit the jackpot!

Oh yes, that right there is a photo of HIS HAIRY STOMACH. Please, someone tell me why. I laughed so hard when I saw this. It’s not a bad stomach, but it isn’t Michael Phelps’ stomach. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Michael, this doesn’t make me want to date you. This makes me want to point and laugh at you.

Michael and His Stomach actually top the guy who I was matched with on eHarmony years ago whose profile photo was him eating ribs, complete with plastic bib and BBQ sauce all over his face.

I think these relationship matching sites are trying to tell me something. I think that something is CUT YOUR LOSSES! GET OUT NOW!

But until my subscription runs out, I will continue to be amused by these “matches” Chemistry.com. Thanks for the laughs.

Hey! So I had my first day at work on Friday. I will not go into any details on here, but would like to say THANK YOU to all of you who wished me luck! My first day went really well. I learned a lot and everyone is really nice. Right before I left on Friday, I spun in a circle in the lobby and sang “I think I’m gonna like it here” a la Annie. (I even wore a red shirt.)

It was nice to start on a Friday and get my feet wet with the being alert and paying attention and using my brain on more than “Me hungry. Need food. Call for burrito. NOM NOM NOM.” It was a packed day with the learning and a really good way to get back into the working world. Because when the day was over, BAM! it was the weekend!

The only problem with that was that I fell right back into my old unemployed habits as soon as I got home. I came home and drank a lot of wine and then stayed up too late and then slept in late on both Saturday and Sunday morning. I didn’t try to get back into the routine or anything. And now it is Sunday night and I’m not even tired. Monday will be a blast. Thank God we have a Starbucks in the lobby.

I’m sure this full week coming up will be rough come Friday when I’ve had to use my brain for five whole days straight. And then I will feel I have earned a weekend of sleeping in. As opposed to this weekend where I was just drunk and/or lazy.

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In other weekend news, I actually missed unemployment when I went down to do my laundry on a Sunday afternoon. Did you know that like EVERYONE does their laundry on Sunday afternoons? Or is that just my apartment complex? Oh, mid-weekday afternoon laundry time, I miss you so.

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I also spent too much of my leftover severance money on clothes today. I wanted to go shopping last week, but didn’t get around to it. (I also apparently didn’t get around to doing laundry in the middle of the day.) So I figured since it was freezing out today (oh, yes it was people. IT SNOWED!) that I would do a little shopping online. I found some cute things and I’m sure that some things won’t fit right and I’ll have to return them, which will make the amount I spent a little less obscene.

But this way maybe I’ll be able to do The Working Closet, hopefully without Slynnro openly mocking me in front of strangers. Now I just need a full length mirror.

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What else did I do this weekend? Not a whole lot. I cried over Dr. Mark Greene coming back to ER. (Seriously people, he didn’t even have to say anything, he just showed up and the tears, they were a flowin’.) And I’m happy to know that I have fellow ER lovers/sobbers on Twitter to commiserate with.

Oh, right, and I signed up for online dating. (GASP!) At Chemistry.com. It is one site I have never tried. It’s like eHarmony, what with the personality matching and stuffs. But since eHarmony tends to lean more conservatively, I figured I’d try this one. Right now I’ve only done the test and uploaded my photos. I’m trying to go in with an open mind and not be so Judgey McJudgerson. WHICH IS HARD TO DO, letmetellyou.

Which brings me back full circle to the headline/blog title thing. Because I NEVER know what to write on those online dating profiles. I always go full cheese, people. Because I think it is funny. But then I forget that if you don’t know me, you probably think I’m the LAMEST PERSON EVER. Well, actually you may think that if you do know me. Bygones.

Like for instance, my first “headline” was “Snarky, Sports Fan Looking For Her Go-To Receiver.” Which I can’t even type without either laughing or vomiting. I finally changed it to “Loves To Laugh.” Which, too, is lame, but kind of cute, and also something I repeat in my profile part. Because I do love to laugh. Mostly at my own jokes. I’m fun at parties.

I went for not a lot of info in the profile. I’ve never done that before. I’m going to see how this works.

Really I should just write:

Look, I love TV and am a lazy slob. Also, I like to drink a lot of alcohol. Different kinds – wine, beer, whiskey – so clearly I don’t discriminate. I don’t like to work out, my pants are too tight and sometimes I talk to my two cats. (Yes, TWO.) I’m really funny. I love to laugh, especially when people fall. I have a blog, so don’t do anything stupid, or I will have to talk about you. I like sports, but not playing them. (Read above where I mention being lazy. Please don’t fail the reading comprehension portion of the exam.) I prefer watching sports in a bar, which combines my three loves – TV, sports and alcohol. Do I sound like your kind of girl? Hit me back, you.

P.S. I’m tall, so midgets need not apply.

I wonder how well that would go over?

Anyway, I am not feeling at all creative this week. I’ve been in a funk (which I’ve said here before) for some time. I don’t know what it is. But I’m hoping to get out of it soon. But me in a funk leads to posts about beans and George Wendt. Which, really, let’s be honest, NO post would have been better. (Seemed so good in my head.) (That was your first mistake.) (Shut up head!)

So I figured I’d give y’all an update on the saga that is Kristabella Tackles Online Dating.

Which would be wrong. Since I’ve been on for a week and a half and haven’t gone on any dates. Actually, before tonight, I hadn’t logged on since I signed up. Which, even I know to make this work, you have to be active. If Prince Charmings were just going to fall out of the sky and land in my vestibule and push my buzzer and climb up three flights of stairs, on their horses, with roses for me, it would have already happened for the love of Christ.

As I mentioned before, I have done this song and dance before. I tried Yahoo personals. Which is a little better from the standpoint that you can IM. And sending an IM like “want to chat?” is a lot easier than sending a damn email. Because besides “what’s up?” what the hell else do I say? That isn’t already in my profile? And are these supposed to be creative subject lines? The PRESSURE!

After logging in I noticed that nothing changed. One guy “winked” at me. So I winked back. And I’m feeling really good because the girl is stacked. What? Oh, sorry. So I don’t just stand there, I bust a move. And email this fellow. Dressed in yellow. (Not really. But that’s how Young MC spits it, yo. Word.) Who seems nice enough. We’ll see what happens.

And then I notice that I have stipulations to my membership. Because of this whole guarantee. (If you don’t find love in 6 months, they’ll pay for your next 6 months of service. I can deal with that.) But you didn’t tell me I’d have to do anything.

So I have to send 5 emails a month. Which isn’t a big deal. Unless you freak out because, OHMYGOD! it’s almost the end of the month. But I just signed up! Must send emails? Now? Aarrgggh! Although, had you just looked at the words right above, it says you are only on day 9 of 30. Dumbass. Whew.

I also had another wink. From a big, short, fat man. Now, I’m no Skinny Minny. But this dude had to be like 375 pounds, if he weighed a pound. And he had the audacity to say his body type was “a few extra pounds.” Yeah. A few extra pounds. Plus a 7-year old child. Needless to say, I didn’t wink back. Because he was stacked.

But I did spend some time searching profiles, for people who “match” me based on what I like (tall) and want (tall), and sent some emails to a few decent candidates. So, we’ll see how that goes.

I know it may be a little hard to believe, but I can be a little shy. I’ll tell a stranger to go fuck themselves, but sending emails to random strangers? Looking for love? As I am? Holy shit that scares the beejezus out of me!

Not to mention the fact that I really don’t know what the hell to say. I mean it’s like a yearbook. “KIT! Have a kick ass summer! Loved your profile!” Although, what I really want to say is “You’re cute. Don’t look like a serial killer. And you’re not a midget. And you seem to want more than a booty call. Woot! Email me back, holmes.” All with the subject line of either “Insert Witty Title Here” or “So, Do You Come Here Often?” I kid. You. Not. Those were my email subject lines. And I wonder why I’m single.

The other part of it is the whole putting yourself out there thing. Again, may be hard to believe since I’m telling the entire Information Superhighway (why don’t we say that anymore? We should bring it back. Out with Sexy Back. In with Information Superhighway Back.) (Oh. Right. It’s too fucking long to type.) Anyway, again, hard to believe as I’m telling teh interweb (much better) about my online dating experience, but I’m not so much into the putting myself out there. I do NOT like rejection. I mean, for fuck’s sake people, I got mad and upset when you didn’t like my shoes! Am far too insecure!

But I’m growing. I’m almost 30. Must start doing things I don’t like. Or that are uncomfortable. Except eating raw clams. Because it’s like eating boogers.

And usually in these instances, I need a 2 by 4 to the damn face to make me realize “Hey YOU! You are being STUPID!” Unfortunately, 2 by 4s to the face really fucking suck. But, DAMN, they really get the job done.

My love life has been non-existent lately. I mean, I can’t tell you the last time I was on a proper date. (Or when I turned British. Wankers.) A lot of it was that I wasn’t ready. It took me a long time to get over my ex-boyfriend. A LOT of time, probably according to most people. But everyone is different.

But now I’m ready again. After a few blips of utter stupidity. I need to get back out there. Because you know what? I just don’t meet people in bars. I need something else.

I’ve done the online dating thing before. It works well. I never met “the one” but I met some cool people. Also some toads. And apparently short, heavy-set men are REALLY attracted to me. (People, I hate to be all shallow and shit, but I’m almost 6-feet tall. If you’re 5-4, I’m sorry. I will not be attracted to you. I will not suffer from a lifetime of back problems from bending over to kiss you. And talk to you. Since you’ll be so low to the ground.) (But you would come in handy when I drop shit.)

Last time I did Yahoo Personals. I didn’t have much luck. I met a lot of perverts. Just wanting a hook up. Which, jeebus, people, I’m almost 30. I don’t need more random hook-ups. Those I can do just fine on my own. That’s what bars are for. And I don’t have to pay $15 a month for that.

So tonight? I signed up for Match.com. I’m taking the plunge and doing the online dating thing again. To be honest, I don’t have a lot of confidence in it. But I know people who have met their “one” on there. Specifically I know one person who just recently had her second baby with her guy she met on Match. And they are all kinds of happy. So I know it works. I do believe in it.

But sometimes I feel things get lost in translation. I never know what to write. I mean, you don’t want to be too funny because then you’re like batshit crazy. Too serious and you’re like that chick who will end up stalking you. Maybe my profile should just read “I’m funny! I like sports! Go read kristabella.wordpress.com! And you’ll see! I’m batshit crazy AND funny!”

But yeah. I’m at a good place for this. And I’m all set on really putting the effort into it. Because it’s a lot with the email and the winks and the searching and all. You have to have time to devote to this. This I know. And I’m ready to put in the time. Because I’m ready to move on from ex-boyfriends. And from the one-night stands. And into real adult relationships.

But I will not be taking any assvice from Dr. Phil. Because you sir, are a fucking moron.