One is the loneliest number
February 9, 2007 | 12:00am
"Do something you’ve never done before."
That was the response I got from my dad when I once complained about being oh-so-blessed with an intensely boring life and that he was partially to blame for it because he put me in a private Catholic school when he could have shipped me to some art school in the boondocks instead. I exhibited a lot of preteen angst then. He told me that only boring people get bored and then proceeded to back up his advice by popping Björk’s Debut album into my Discman and made me listen to a strangely odd voice sing "Come on girl / Let’s sneak out of this party / It’s getting boring / There’s more to life than this / It’s still early morning / We could go down to the harbour / And jump between the boats / And see the sun come up." I was 11 years old.
True enough, the advice worked out well for me. It made me a little more adventurous. I now tend to do something out of the ordinary once in a while and find that it helps make even the crummiest of situations downright comical. Take, for example, Valentine’s Day. I hated it. In my head, it was the cheesiest non-holiday "holiday" that only losers celebrate. But last year I discovered that celebrating Valentine’s Day in the cheesiest way possible is better than being heartbroken on the mushiest day of the year. I couldn’t even count how many couples were smooching and exchanging gifts right in front of my face. I wanted to smack everyone in the head with my planner.
And I don’t think I’m gonna be loving Valentine’s this year either.
So what’s a girl like me to do? Something I’ve never done before.
I joined an online matching service called itzamatch.com (yes, that’s a Z, no typographical error there) and thought it would be fun to put myself in a preposterously absurd and seemingly pathetic situation just for kicks. The site is a funny piece of work with ads that say HHWWPSSP (Holding Hands While Walking Pa-Sway Sway Pa) and 14344 (I love you very much). And because it’s owned by Cebu-based Bigfoot Global Solutions Inc, most of the people in it are from the country but foreigners are allowed to join as well. So chances are, if you’re not seriously into it or extremely picky, you’ll probably find someone near your area. Good luck to those with dial-up Internet connectivity because you actually have to answer eight really long pages of profile questions to sign up. The idea of finding a date through the net is something I would normally consider plain stupid and potentially dangerous but this site was way too hilarious to pass up. One look at Itzamatch and I knew I was bound to either break into a hissy fit or a sarcastic monologue and go berserk on my date. I also knew that I would have to prepare myself  meaning I had to at least try and add a little more tact to my foot-in-mouth- prone conversational skills, practice my poker face and consult The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Dating (just in case I might need some great escape techniques that would make Harry Houdini turn in his grave).
So I made sure to post a picture that would make it start raining men.
And rain men it did. Out of more than 40 invites in a span of two weeks, I decided to go for Mr. Wetpooh (I’m not so sure if he was aware that he was calling himself Mr. Diarrhea)  primarily because he was the only one who could speak decent English and didn’t have a picture. Thriller. I set the date, time and place; made sure to pick a well-lit spot; asked some friends to stay near the area just in case I need "saving" and I brought along something I could use as a weapon. I was sort of expecting to see Hannibal Lecter. So I wore all white (jeans, top and killer snakeskin pumps) and thought that if I was going to be murdered, the bloodstains have to at least be nicely splattered in the pictures. White and red make for a fabulous combination.
I was disappointed. Apparently, Mr. Wetpooh turned out to be Mr. I’m-so-the-most-normal-guy-on-Earth and worked as a freelance consultant who resigned from his nine-to-five job two weeks prior. He was also the kind of guy who expected to pay the bill and thought that being out at 10 p.m. on a weekday was late. He wasn’t a smoker or a hard drinker. And by the looks of it, he looked like the kind of guy who could actually be a dad. A real family man.
The bottomline is, I guess it is possible to have a normal night out with someone you met online. At least I can say I wasn’t bored out of my wits and more than anything, I realized that it is the norm for other people to date online. But so much for the sound of Hannibal’s voice starting off on his "Dear Clarice" speech...
That was the response I got from my dad when I once complained about being oh-so-blessed with an intensely boring life and that he was partially to blame for it because he put me in a private Catholic school when he could have shipped me to some art school in the boondocks instead. I exhibited a lot of preteen angst then. He told me that only boring people get bored and then proceeded to back up his advice by popping Björk’s Debut album into my Discman and made me listen to a strangely odd voice sing "Come on girl / Let’s sneak out of this party / It’s getting boring / There’s more to life than this / It’s still early morning / We could go down to the harbour / And jump between the boats / And see the sun come up." I was 11 years old.
True enough, the advice worked out well for me. It made me a little more adventurous. I now tend to do something out of the ordinary once in a while and find that it helps make even the crummiest of situations downright comical. Take, for example, Valentine’s Day. I hated it. In my head, it was the cheesiest non-holiday "holiday" that only losers celebrate. But last year I discovered that celebrating Valentine’s Day in the cheesiest way possible is better than being heartbroken on the mushiest day of the year. I couldn’t even count how many couples were smooching and exchanging gifts right in front of my face. I wanted to smack everyone in the head with my planner.
And I don’t think I’m gonna be loving Valentine’s this year either.
So what’s a girl like me to do? Something I’ve never done before.
I joined an online matching service called itzamatch.com (yes, that’s a Z, no typographical error there) and thought it would be fun to put myself in a preposterously absurd and seemingly pathetic situation just for kicks. The site is a funny piece of work with ads that say HHWWPSSP (Holding Hands While Walking Pa-Sway Sway Pa) and 14344 (I love you very much). And because it’s owned by Cebu-based Bigfoot Global Solutions Inc, most of the people in it are from the country but foreigners are allowed to join as well. So chances are, if you’re not seriously into it or extremely picky, you’ll probably find someone near your area. Good luck to those with dial-up Internet connectivity because you actually have to answer eight really long pages of profile questions to sign up. The idea of finding a date through the net is something I would normally consider plain stupid and potentially dangerous but this site was way too hilarious to pass up. One look at Itzamatch and I knew I was bound to either break into a hissy fit or a sarcastic monologue and go berserk on my date. I also knew that I would have to prepare myself  meaning I had to at least try and add a little more tact to my foot-in-mouth- prone conversational skills, practice my poker face and consult The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Dating (just in case I might need some great escape techniques that would make Harry Houdini turn in his grave).
So I made sure to post a picture that would make it start raining men.
And rain men it did. Out of more than 40 invites in a span of two weeks, I decided to go for Mr. Wetpooh (I’m not so sure if he was aware that he was calling himself Mr. Diarrhea)  primarily because he was the only one who could speak decent English and didn’t have a picture. Thriller. I set the date, time and place; made sure to pick a well-lit spot; asked some friends to stay near the area just in case I need "saving" and I brought along something I could use as a weapon. I was sort of expecting to see Hannibal Lecter. So I wore all white (jeans, top and killer snakeskin pumps) and thought that if I was going to be murdered, the bloodstains have to at least be nicely splattered in the pictures. White and red make for a fabulous combination.
I was disappointed. Apparently, Mr. Wetpooh turned out to be Mr. I’m-so-the-most-normal-guy-on-Earth and worked as a freelance consultant who resigned from his nine-to-five job two weeks prior. He was also the kind of guy who expected to pay the bill and thought that being out at 10 p.m. on a weekday was late. He wasn’t a smoker or a hard drinker. And by the looks of it, he looked like the kind of guy who could actually be a dad. A real family man.
The bottomline is, I guess it is possible to have a normal night out with someone you met online. At least I can say I wasn’t bored out of my wits and more than anything, I realized that it is the norm for other people to date online. But so much for the sound of Hannibal’s voice starting off on his "Dear Clarice" speech...
BrandSpace Articles
<
>