Online Dating -The Other Stock Market

For the past two months Specimen #1 and a few other friends have been urging me to try online dating because they feel that is the best way that I can meet new people. My reply is, “I don’t want to meet the ‘generic’ new people. I want to meet new people that the people I already know have prescreened.” Especially, considering I am a single mother.

As I have already stated, my friends do not know anyone that meets my qualifications (Specimen #1 says he knows people but then he would be jealous SMH). Anyway, my qualifications are not too extreme, and no I am not a snob, but my qualifications have taken shape over the past 10 years based on experience. They are as follows, in no specific order of priority: mature, psychologically sound, easy on the eyes, independent (i.e. does not live in their parents’ basement), 26-36 years of age, employed, and holding a Master’s degree or higher. I am sure the last requirement is raising some eyebrows; even my “beloved” Mother commented that with each degree I earn, I wipe out another subsection of the global male population. I guess she will really be crying at graduation when she watches her almost 30 year old daughter obtain that PhD in 2 years. The fact of the matter is that every man I have dated lacks a degree (on a side note Specimen #2 has a Bachelor’s degree he is not putting to good use, but fails in some of the other important categories). This lack of degree translates into the majority of my exs’ having no understanding or appreciation for what I am trying to do and in some cases jealousy because they believe I am more successful. The result is that these men start trying to compensate for their educational shortcomings by sabotaging mine in an effort to bring me down to their level. It obviously hasn’t happened.

So I took all these qualifications and presented them in a manner that was toned down and started my very own online dating profile. And yes, as a feminist, I was extremely ambivalent about creating my own advertisement and I ultimately didn’t sell very well and yes it did feel like a form of online prostitution but here it is:

I am a hardworking and dedicated 26 year old PhD candidate /single mom. I am interested in meeting people that are educated, motivated and actually know what is going on in the world. People have described me as witty but I find myself to be a little on the sarcastic side. Overall, I am pretty laid back and not too nerdy for a PhD candidate, although I do have my moments. I am an excellent cook and know how to keep a clean house and an organized life. I am extremely social and enjoy hanging out and going places with my friends and family but at the same time can equally appreciate a quiet evening at home.

I also added that people should message me if they have a similar background and are looking for a long-term relationship/friendship. Then I selected two pictures, one with my hair straight, and one with my hair curled, that are representative of what I look like on a daily basis.

As you can imagine after succumbing to the demands to try online dating, I really feel as if I am giving into yet another hallmark of patriarchal-capitalism. I get to be the commodity on the dating “stock-exchange.” The best part is I got to objectify myself first before being objectified by others (sarcasm). Talk about double-entanglement.

I have been messaged 7 times in the past 5 days of having this profile up. All 7 make some remark about me being “cute,” having “nice pics” or saying you’re “gorgeous.”  A few even included phone numbers and IM user names. One went like this, “Hi how you...very nice pics, are are you single? “ First of all, you can’t be remotely educated because of course I am single; I am on the online dating site!!! PASS. Another went like this, “Hi cutie, how are you doing?” My answer in my mind, “Cutie is not a good first pick-up line, my cat is cute, my child is cute and I was doing fine until you pissed me off by messaging me with that bullshit.” RUN FAST. For those of you wondering, the other 5 messages where equally ridiculous and degrading.

Am I flattered? No. Am I disgusted? Yes. Not one of them described anything about themselves such whether they are educated etc. I could do this at the bar and at least get a drink or two out of it. I am starting to think with the responses I have received thus far that perhaps as time goes on, my stock value is depreciating on the general market and on the online exchange it is absolutely tanking. 

Happy Single Mother's Day

Yes, that's right; I said it, Happy Single Mother's Day to me. I had to correct quite a few people yesterday, jokingly of course, when they wished me a Happy Mother's Day. Now I do realize that many individuals out there have their own version of Mother's Day, some whose mothers have deceased, or those who have lost children, so my intent is not to be insensitive to their pain, but remember the purpose of this blog for me is to find the comedy in my "chronically" single status and how my life so does not conform to the societal norm of blissful marriage/relationship. So for starters, while many of you mothers out there were waking up to breakfast in bed, or even later on, sitting down to dinner cooked by your husband and kids, I think somebody got cheese stuffed mushrooms and crab legs (let me double check on Facebook), I was up at 6am making scrambled eggs, not for myself but my child, followed by laundry and housecleaning. The night ended with me throwing up in a bucket because my lactose-intolerant self decided to eat ice cream.

And, since we are on the topic of societal norms, let's talk about how these patriarchal-capitalist norms affect the child of a single mom. In the wake of the capitalist Mother's Day frenzy, my daughter has spent the past few days trying to figure out how she is ever going to afford to get me a Mother's Day gift after watching all those TV commercials, and in all those advertisements in the paper now that she can read. I guess it didn't help that she had to watch me agonizing over what to do for my mother. My mother, being the difficult woman she is, asked for an outdoor fern, and subsequently went out and purchased herself three ferns the day before Mother's Day, which means she now has four. Don't I feel original? Again, "Thanks for everything Mom." Anyway, so by the Friday before Mother's Day, my child attempted to go on strike and hook kindergarten, in an effort to get her grandparents to help her get a gift, which didn't happen and boy was she pissed. Ultimately, she got back at them my ripping up flowers from their garden and making me a card, just one of the many reasons I love my child, her resourcefulness. Now if we can just get past Father's Day this year, which is even worse than Mother's Day for her, because instead of worrying about a gift, she is feeling sorry that she doesn't have father like all of her other friends. We had a preview to Father’s Day earlier this year when her elementary school hosted a Father-Daughter dance, which she did not attend.

So how did I celebrate Single Mother's Day you ask? Very simple, I went out with my Turkish friend who doesn't celebrate all these ridiculous holidays we Americans invent and then capitalistically try to colonize the rest of the world with. Where did we go? To Mezze in Baltimore. Why? To celebrate my former boss’s going-away party. Now you’re probably wondering who in the hell would schedule their going away party on Mother's Day and the answer is another single mom like me, well kind of, she has a girlfriend. Long story short, the food was good but the wait staff was horrible but thank god for the three glasses of sangria and thanks to my Turkish friend for holding my hand to walk across the street. No I wasn’t drunk; cobblestone streets just don’t go well with my heels. We did look like the perfect lesbian couple, NOT but given the societal norms and assumptions, I am sure that is what we looked like as we tripped across the cobblestone street. Well we thought so at least.

Now time for the amusing Mother’s Day phone calls/texts from my guy friends. Honestly, there were only two but both equally amusing. The first was during the lunch at Mezze not from my girlfriend but rather her husband. It went something like this, "I just thought to call you and wish you a Happy Mother's Day, and we didn't have this conversation, but I was really drunk with my wife the other day and told her I would really like to have a threesome with the two of you. What do you think?" Again, remember Option A. My reaction, "You're right we didn't have this conversation, talk to you later." I return to my sangria. Also, I highly doubt he was drunk when he made that comment. The second, which was really surprising, was from Specimen #2, in text form of course because for some reason he can't make phone calls, which is surprising because Specimen #1, who didn't call at all and lacks all verbal communication skills,  can still make an occasional phone call, although from what I like to call the "Phantom Phone Number" because yes, he uses a phone number that isn't real and you can't call it back. If you read my two previous blog posts, you can figure out why. Anyway so after spending the entire day informing people that I was celebrating "Single Mother's Day," and then vomiting in a bucket, the text from Specimen #2 read, "Happy Gringa Mother's Day.” At that point, as you can imagine, I was frustrated that after finally finding contentment in my Single Mother’s Day, to suddenly now have “Gringa Mother’s Day” thrusted upon me. As a result, I did not have the energy to reply, which would have to have been by text, because not only is he incapable of placing phone calls but also taking them, that I am celebrating "Single Mother’s Day" and not "Gringa Mother's Day."

I got "Single" Cell Disease and my "Doctors" keep handing out Placebos

A friend of mine in her 40s read my blog entry yesterday and responded by saying "Great stuff...very funny... just slightly painful to read as a possibly chronically single person myself." As I read her comment, I began to think about her use of the phrase "chronically single" to describe her condition and I linked it with the larger discursive frame of illness. By the way, I have a MA in Intercultural Communication and specialize in discourse analysis, both written and visual texts, so I can analyze anything into the ground. Anyway, her use of "chronically single" made me realize that both her and I are abnormal in terms of U.S. society's dominant social norms. And, keeping with the theme of illness, I am going to go ahead and self-diagnose this disease as "Single Cell Disease." This is what someone with Single Cell Disease looks like at a party:

Now for you happily married or otherwise entangled readers, don't get too comfortable, because this disease is communicable. It strikes both the young (like myself) and the old. So as you sit there relieved that you are not afflicted, just remember you still have to get through the mid-life crisis and what I like to call "Trading Season," which is when you all get bored with your marriages/relationships and cheat. Some of you already have signs of early onset, remember my Option A. 

As someone trying to cure myself of this disease I have increasingly relied on  conversation therapy with my friends, which is starting to mimic the whole doctor/patient relationship. I wonder when they are going to start charging me a co-pay. The problem with this arrangement is that all my "doctors" are not really qualified to handle my case. They are all married/entangled, and all before the age of 26. Now my single male friends, I'm convinced they're presenting fraudulent credentials, because they always try to prescribe sex therapy, and I am pretty sure this violates the whole doctor code of ethics. It may even be illegal. I'll have to look into this, especially with Specimen #1, considering he has that girlfriend. I'm sure there is a breach of contract in there somewhere. 

I guess I'll end this on a note of fairness. Aside from all their shortcomings as "doctors," these friends do share some common characteristics with a doctor. For one, even when they are supposed to be "on call" they can never seem to return a call or text. They are always hard to get an appointment with, and, when you do secure a visit, they make you wait forever and visits typically last for about 15 to 20 minutes. This is just long enough for them to tell you all about their fabulous lives that I already read about on Facebook earlier in the day. The visit typically concludes with the prescription of advice, on how to cure myself of Single Cell Disease. I swear they are handing me placebos because none of it ever works. And then it is over, and I feel like I feel after going to the "real" doctor with my 103 degree fever about to vomit on his floor and he tells me to drink some juice and get some rest and I'll be better in a few days. With Single Cell Disease, it's been two years,  and I haven't gotten better, maybe it's time to find some new doctors that or some drugs that work. 

About Me and this Blog

2018 Update

I am now 34, still a single mother, and the spawn is now 14. Oh, and I got that Ph.D, a house, a better job! Much remains the same except, I have now embraced the singleness. Hopefully, I can provide some comedic reflections on single parenting in the teen years.


2011 Me
So this blog is my official attempt at some self-help. As you've probably guessed this blog is going to touch on both the trials and tribulations of motherhood and what appears to be my hopelessly single status. Before all of that however, a little bit about myself, let's start with the most salient societal label most commonly affixed to me: Single Mom. Now if I  had to describe myself, I would go with highly successful and independent 26 year old mother of a bright and beautiful 6 year old daughter working on finishing her PhD in the Baltimore Metro area but after 2 years of attempting to date and failing miserably, the defining adjective of my life has increasingly become single. As a matter of fact, just yesterday my mother offered me some parenting advice that went like this, "You know, you should really work on bonding with your daughter because from your recent attempts at dating, it's looking like it might just be you and her for the long run." First of all, "Thanks for the support Mom" and secondly I know what you all are thinking that I am putting dating before parenting, but this is simply not the case. As a single-parent, and when I say single I mean single, there is no other parent, it is her and I, 24/7 save when I am at work, which I like to refer to as "paid vacation," in a one-bedroom apartment. I recently joked with a colleague that I can't get any "me time" from daughter even in my dreams, because yes, she is in the same bedroom. I am sure your next thought is, get out and socialize. I can assure you, this has been attempted throughout the past 2 years of being single and for this upcoming weekend and that when I find myself sitting on the couch by myself with a glass of wine on a Friday and Saturday night it is the weekly, I mean daily, sign of defeat. Herein lies the problem, all of my girlfriends from high school, including the single moms, have somehow managed to find marital or relationship bliss in the past two years, while I can't seem to get a guy to seriously consider me. I'm told it's because I am too successful and these men feel like they have nothing to offer or can't measure up. This problem is also starting to extend to my circle of guy friends. Just last week a good guy friend of mine came over to say good-bye before his upcoming arranged marriage: "My response, I am happy but feel betrayed that you of all people have left me the last one standing," actually, I'm not standing but sitting on the couch with my glass of wine. So to be honest, I am not always alone but there are simply no prospective dates, because I have even asked my insanely happy friends to introduce me to people they know but they reply they don't know anyone single, they are all married or they're gay, which means that typical socialization goes something like this: Option A: I am either the 3rd wheel and their husband is trying to have an affair with me or Option B: at larger gatherings I am the only single person in the room and have nothing in common with anyone to talk about because the topic always seems to go back to their blissful marital status or what marvelous thing their boyfriend/husband did that day or the upcoming date night/family vacation or the dreaded church or Mom's Club. All the while, I sit there thinking, do they really need to tell me about this because I saw your Facebook status, and yes I know your man is amazing. It is like my life is all thirteen segments of "Imaginary Bitches" rolled into one, save the lesbian identity crisis. Well almost save the lesbian identity crisis because it has been suggested by many that maybe I should try women but I am simply not interested. And yes, because there is always an Option C, here it is: Hangout with my lingering but slowly dwindling pool of 30-something single guy friends. Now this option can be entertaining at times, they always bring good wine, I may even daydream that they could be perspective long-term partners but that bubble always pops and the reality is that at the age of 30, these specimens are single for a reason and me as the Single Mom are their prospective "friend with benefits." For example, the best specimen was the one that actually had a girlfriend on the side, unbeknown to me, until yes I did some private investigating work and had a "come to Jesus talk" with him earlier this year. This of course is after him stringing me along for oh I don't know an entire year and then attempting to sabotage my prospects with Specimen #2. Specimen #2 is not much better, perhaps this has something to do with the fact that yes, at nearly 30 he is still hanging out with the fraternity. Oh and did I mention that both specimens still live in their parents' basements. Now like Specimen #1, Specimen #2 also talked a good game but when it came time for commitment dropped the classic, "You're an amazing woman but you would be settling with me," but we can be friends with benefits. Looking back, I know he is right but the point of this entire diversion is that I should really get this one-liner on recording, because it is the most common line that I have heard in the past two years and I would really like to just hit play and save all of them the vocal effort when the dreaded commitment conversation arises. Oh and did I mention I'm a feminista, I guess this doesn't help either. Now you may think that I am depressed but the fact of the matter is, I am far from it. At the age of 26, I am a successful PhD candidate, survivor of domestic violence (2x), a great mother (most days), and a very good friend to many. In fact, looking back, I am starting to find all of this very comical, hence the blog and hence my decision to share this most ridiculous adventure as I make yet another attempt to do the single mom dating thing. Wish me luck and enjoy :)