Archive for December, 2007

REALLY living through your children

wow. just wow.

and he won’t get PMS

For only two grand, you can get matched with people whose immunological systems are different from yours. The founder was apparently inspired by a study showing that women liked the smell of immunological unlikes’ T-shirts. Which prompts the sensible biologist’s sensible question near the bottom of the article.

guilty!

but I don’t feel bad about either googling or being googled.

I’m too lazy to google every first F2F, that’s more crush behavior for me.

A bit surprising to me that women google their dates more and men google old friends more.

bronze age computer dating

fun blast from past. I had a friend from college, Will Dixon, who was talking about inventing this in the 80s. “It’ll never catch on, Will,” we said.

i bet the racist remark got a date

fun from McSweeneys, thank you Karen!

yeah, he got my credit card number — but I beat him at chess

how embarrassing to be taken in by a flirting robot!

reports of death exaggerated?

Is online dating dead, as this columnist claimed, or just “over” for the young cool-hunters? Geezers seem to be using it as much as ever….

I like the nature preserve vs. zoo analogy, but the busy (older) people who know what they want are going to stick with the more efficient dating sites, I think.

Q: what do they call the Irish sports page?

A: The obituaries. I love that joke. And I had an Irish-American roommate in Boston who followed the Red Sox very passionately (she also kept up with the real world!), but she still read the obits first when she opened up her Globe.

Was reminded of that wonderful, poetic, mordant, Beckettian, Joyceian Irish gloom by this post about a new Irish dating site, Lonely.ie, with its startling sentence, “Google Trends discovered that “lonely” was the word entered most frequently by Internet users in Ireland.”

The name of the site flies in the face of Americans’ self-presentation online: “Oh, I’m just online dating for kicks; my life is just GREAT and full and busy and happy, and maybe I could squeeze in a romantic partner but I certainly don’t NEED one, gosh I am so self-sufficient and did I mention happy happy happy?”

Sort of hopeless, funny, Beckett-like thing I’m observing out my window: A child next door is trying to make a snow angel in a light dusting of snow, and leaving no impression whatsoever.

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