The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Weekly Wacko (30)

My Name’s Brad Stanley, and I Meet People from the Internets

I had debated writing a post about this for the past little while. The hang-up, of course, is a bit of embarrassment. But I think it’s cool when people openly embrace the fact that yes, they use or whatever (that’s not a real ‘social networking’ or ‘dating’ site, as far as I know, but that would be cool).

I moved to California after graduating college, and I had high hopes of meeting some nice co-workers and making friends. And, after some time (read: dealing with baggage), I also had high hopes of meeting a lovely girl to date, or at the very least to spoon with.

Yes, I’m a spooner. The cat’s out of the bag!

My co-workers turned out to be about twice my age (they were great, but not big on me and my damn MTV). I signed up for a writing class at a local community college – it was canceled because too few people signed up. I signed up for another class at a local community college, the class was made up of middle-aged Middle-Eastern men. Not my target market. I went to some church youth group things and made a few semi-friends, but for the most part I never saw them.

At some point I heard about a free site called … which I have since heard called okstupid. I feel like that joke is obvious, but I like it.

I met a few oddballs, but also a few really awesome people in California using that site. I won’t out their names here – but I know one friend also met her boyfriend from okstupid, and both of them are cool. (Yeah, that’s right guys, I called you cool!)

Also, one person I met I still keep in touch with, though strictly through IM conversations. Our topics range from talking about our best and worst qualities when it comes to a relationship and when we’re feeling down we talk about how awesome we are and why don’t more people get that? The ego is a hungry friend.

Here’s a shocker, folks – the internets are much like real life!

You’ll meet some winners, some losers, and some so-so’s. There’s still a stigma with using the internet to meet/date people, and I’m guilty of subscribing to that and a little self-deprecation when it comes to that – but you know what? There are some attractive, fantastic people who use ‘dating’ sites (I say ‘dating’ because I have made very good friends from them).

When I found out I’d be moving to Houston I learned through the wonders of Facebook that I had a few semi-friends out here. I thought I could meet up with them and meet some people through them. I also hoped to meet people through work – though I didn’t hold my breath on that front. Ironically enough, I’ve made some good friends from work (three guys started right around the same time as me) and I have not met up with the people I already knew around here.

I figured I’d meet people the ‘normal’ ways – whatever that means. Work, happy hour, other (???). By people I of course mean girls. Little Foot (my stuffed animal) is great to cuddle with, but he talks too much. And he’s racist. Therefore, I like girls.

This isn’t really anything other than a rambling confession of my online ‘dating.’ I guess I’ll go so far as to say this is an endorsement of that (supporting online, not rambling). Sign up for a free site, write a stupid little profile, meet some people for lunch (yes, lunch – if you meet them for lunch it’s less date-like and you can be friends, or if there’s something you can try and up the ante).

When it comes to online, the key question is, why not? (Though if you’re a girl the key question may be: why not?, and, do I have my mace?)

Comments on: "Weekly Wacko (30)" (2)

  1. We’ll definitely have to compare notes sometime…. I’m just about to post something very similar (if i decide not to just go to bed instead), though probably much more embarassing.

  2. Little Foot is a racist. Yes, it’s true, you wrote a perfectly excellent commentary on meeting people online, and that’s what I’m taking away from it. You always suspect that about cartoon dinosaurs, but until you see it written it just doesn’t hit home.

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