An Alternative to Online Dating

The world of dating can be intimidating, and full of challenges. “How to Get a Girl in a ’95 Corolla” is a book about offering tips to help you overcome those challenges. Scott Gralnick is an author from Beachwood, Ohio. In this interview we discuss the challenges of dating, the importance of communication, and the pros and cons of online dating. For more information about the book, visit: www.scottgralnick.com http lockergnome.com http

How can you if someone is really interested through online dating?

Question by Punky_B: How can you if someone is really interested through online dating?
Just a little rundown of the situation: I met this guy on facebook who attends the same college as myself. Due to my taking a break this semester, i’m not currently in town so we correspond through messages, texting, email, etc..I am really starting to develop a deeper interest in him but I really can’t tell if the feelings are mutual.

Now my question is how can you tell if someone is really into you online? By saying that I mean that since today many aspects of our lives are dealt with through technology and with dating being one of them, how can you tell if you truly have someones interest? When I google things such as “is he interested” or “how to tell if he likes you” I get results that only deal with the physical, but what about us online daters? What are some ways or little hints that we can know someone is really interested in us? Are there any certain things we should be looking for?

Best answer:

Answer by waterlily
Does this guy reach out and contact you first, or are you the one always messaging him? Does he go out of his way to send you little things – like funny sayings or joke emails? If you’re always the one putting out the effort and trying to maintain the relationship, I would say he probably doesn’t have more than friendly feelings for you.

What you need to do at this point is take it offline. Meet him in person somewhere for something…coffee, drinks, what have you. You’ll be able to tell much better when you’re sitting face to face.

A lot of the articles online about “how to tell if he likes you” are written for women…so they’re mostly interested in telling you what you want to hear so you’ll find it helpful and keep reading more articles. I’m a female, but one site I’ve found particularly helpful is Ask Men. It’s a website for guys, but their articles are much more direct and to the point without the flowery language or cute little sayings. They have articles on that site about how to take online dating offline, and how to be safe while doing it.

I think you won’t really know how interested he is until you hang out with him in person. If you suggest this, and he’s not game, well then you already have your answer right there. If he says yes, you at least know he’s moderately interested.

What do you think? Answer below!

dating tips and hints online

dating tips: It involves etting realistic match criteria. People should establish dating boundaries between others.You must be prepared and upbeat the things in life. And try to know about exceptation about each other. And be patient then listen to his words abruptly. It means keeping things in simple and fun. You should choose right person for your life. Successful dates are when you are at your most casual and most upbeat and most relaxed. Recognize whether he is compatible with you are not. And impress him for his work. www.girl24.org
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123/365: 2004-2005

123/365: 2004-2005
online dating hints
Image by bloody marty mix
Friday, 26 September 2008.

40 Years in 40 Days [ view the entire set ]
An examination and remembrance of a life at 40.

For the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday, I intend to use my 365 Days project to document and remember my life and lay bare what defines me. 40 years, 40 qualities, 40 days.

Year 37: 2004-2005

In the fall of 2004, I traveled to a family reunion in California. My mom paid for the plane ticket, as I was still unemployed at the time. The descendants of Patrick Henry Murphy gathered in what was once an old gold mining town. I found the family history fascinating, but I was less enthusiastic about the socializing. I didn’t know anybody there other than my mom and brother, and I’m not generally keen on the idea that I’m automatically supposed to feel some deep connection with a stranger just because they’re family. It’s not that I had anything against any of them. I just didn’t know them, and it felt awkward to me.

After the reunion, however, we went to visit my maternal grandfather, whom I had not seen since I was a child, and to him I was immediately drawn. A retired Air Force dentist, my grandfather was a wonky intellectual, with a childlike wonder for both the natural world and the world of the mind. As soon as I walked into his office, I felt a sense of relief as several odd pieces of my identity fell into place for the first time. After 30-some years, I had finally found my branch of the family tree. By comparison, the rest of the family never seemed to be anything like me tempermentally. Now I had found my people… or person, at least.

When we left the next morning, I was sad. My grandfather was not in the best of health, and I feared it would be the last time I would see him. I was also a bit resentful of the fact that I’d lived most of my life without this man in it. How different things might have been had I had a role model who understood me at an intuitive level, and who could have shown me that I was not a freak, or weird, or cold for embracing my rational mind. Almost out of instinct, I loved him. When it was time to fly back to Chicago, I sat at my gate and wrote him a long letter, telling him how I felt. Later, he e-mailed me to say that he was very touched.

Just days after I arrived back in Chicago, my biological father e-mailed me out of the blue. I had not seen him since I was 18, and before that, not since I was 13. He had not been in touch with me on a regular basis since I was a young child. He said he had found an e-mail address that he believed might be mine, and was testing it to see if it was. I had toyed for many years with the idea of tracking him down, but had never pursued it, so I was both nervous and excited. I had a travel voucher for Southwest Airlines that was about to expire, so I suggested that I fly out to San Jose to visit for a few days.

At the airport, it took a few trips around the passenger pickup area to spot each other. Neither of us knew how to recognize the other. He drove me to a restaurant where his wife was waiting for us, and we got caught up over dinner. The following day, he and I drove up the coast to San Francisco, stopping at several places along the way to get out and take pictures. We talked about what was going on in each other’s lives, and he apologized for not being a part of mine. He also said it might have been better for me that he wasn’t. It took him a long time to get his life reasonably together, and he felt he would not have been a terribly good influence on a child back when he was barely more than one himself. He asked about my mom, and about my brother, whom he had never met and knew almost nothing about.

On my last day there, he gathered his side of the family at their house for a big Mexican meal. My aunt and uncle, whom I had not seen since I was very, very young, were there, along with their kids, whom I had never seen. It was strange again, this meeting family members you don’t have any real connection with, but this time I was glad they were there. Having always had a difficult time knowing how to incorporate my Mexican heritage into my identity, it was wonderful to be confronted with it so directly. I could see that my eyes, mouth, and nose had come directly from them, while my pale skin, toothy smile, and wide square jaw had come from my mother’s side of the family. Later, C. would remark that pictures from that small reunion made him laugh because, for the first time, I actually looked Irish to him. In a sea of tan faces, I clearly looked like an "other."

C. and I were in a holding pattern. He still toiled at building his own business, and had no money to travel. I had no savings and no job. We had not seen each other in person in over a year. I loved him very much, but I was intolerably lonely, and my life seemed to grow more empty by the day. Friends I used to hang out with stopped calling me altogether, having gotten so used to my turning down invitations to come out. Initially, I turned down such offers because I was too busy chatting online with C., and thinking about the day when we would finally be together. Now, I turned them down because I simply had no money, and my friends were all lawyers, doctors, and IT professionals, who were into good food, and good wine. I could not run with them, so I stayed behind the pack and felt more and more dead inside.

It was into this darkness that Kurt came crashing back in, bearing light and heat. Kurt had been in my circle of social acquaintances for over a decade. He had lost his job in the 2000 tech bubble burst, and when he’d exhausted his savings a couple years later, he swallowed his pride and moved in with his parents in Indiana. I felt horrible for him, and sent him care packages and e-mails so he wouldn’t feel forgotten. We kept a sporadic e-mail exchange, sending each other jokes and random, funny images. I had been surprised by the degree to which I missed Kurt, but I didn’t think much about it, as I was fully immersed in my relationship with C. Now I was thinking about it.

In June, my friend, Mark, would be getting married to his girlfriend, Gina, who had also become a close friend. Kurt would be coming back to Chicago for the wedding, and I noticed that, as the wedding drew nearer, I began to think of the occasion more as an opportunity to see Kurt than as the day when Mark and Gina would be married. This surprised me. I wasn’t sure where these feelings were coming from. Kurt and I had hooked up a few times over the years, but it never seemed like anything but friends having a little fun. And, there was no doubt in my mind that I loved C. deeply. And yet, I kept thinking about how excited I was that I was going to get to see Kurt at the wedding. After weeks of this, I finally realized, to my great dismay, that a window of opportunity was opening for Kurt, and that if he were interested in climbing through it, I would let him. I was confused and scared. I did not want to betray C. We had an open relationship to allow for the fulfillment of our basic needs for physical closeness, but this felt like it might be something more than that.

When I saw him at the wedding, Kurt grinned at me and gave me a big hug. We were nearly attached at the hip the whole night, though I suspect that had more to do with me following him around than vice versa. When I’d had a sufficient amount to drink, I confessed everything. I told him that I wanted him to move back to Chicago, but that I was afraid that if he did I would fall in love with him. I immediately felt mortified, and told him to forget I said anything, but he was having none of that. He said he felt very emotional about me, too, and my heart leapt to my throat.

The next day, I flipped all the way out. I called Gina in a panic. What on earth had I just set in motion? I could almost hear her eyes rolling over the phone. She’d seen this coming a long time ago in the way he always looked at me when I wasn’t looking at him. She said she’d seen tenderness in his eyes, almost as if he wanted to protect me. I wasn’t convinced. I wrote Kurt a long, rambling e-mail in which I gave him ample opportunity to walk back anything he said that he might not entirely have meant. I suggested that, while I was feeling some dizzying feelings for him, I was open to the idea that it was just loneliness and that maybe we were just two lonely friends who needed some attention. He e-mailed me back his agreement with that basic premise. He felt it was best that we just remain friends. I felt a little crushed, but I had to admit, it did seem reasonable. I spent the rest of the summer trying not to think about him.

When my birthday came around, I was feeling sour and grumpy. I would be spending yet another birthday alone in my room, and I just couldn’t bear it. I mentioned this to Kurt, and he asked me if I wanted to come spend the weekend with him at his fraternity Homecoming. We would be camping out on the lawn next to the bonfire, and there would be hay rides, and dancing, and all manner of fun. I jumped at the opportunity.

We didn’t do much but hang around bonfires and BBQ’s and drink, but that’s exactly the sort of thing I needed, so it was perfect. On Saturday, we walked around campus with squeezie bottles full of gin and tonic, and hung out at the pig roast, and the football game. As we were walking along, I stopped because I got stung by something (I think it was a bee that I managed to dislodge before it was able to do much), and Kurt came running back to me, breathlessly asking if I was OK, and was I sure I was OK, because if I was not OK, he could get something for it. If we had really been dating, it would have been adorable. As it was, it was half adorable and half confusing (with a pinch of funny).

We went back to the fraternity house and hung out. Normally they have a hay ride, but the wagon was broken, so somebody pulled up a big pickup truck and we piled in. Kurt sat on the edge, and I sat on the bed of the truck in front of him. As we drove off, he reached down and grabbed my hand. I thought, Oh man, here we go, but we were having so much fun that I decided not to over-think it. By the wee hours of the morning, Kurt and I were the only ones left by the bonfire, except for one passed out guy on a lawn chair. Kurt decided we needed good music, having suffered through hours of the poor taste of undergrads, and pulled his car over to the fire to turn up his stereo. The two of us were sitting in his car when the music started, and as the first refrains of Cheap Trick’s "Surrender" floated out into the night air, he looked at me, grinned, and said, "Come on! " We got out of the car, and he grabbed me and started dancing. We ran circles around the bonfire, singing ebulliantly to the stars. Mommy’s alright. Daddy’s alright. They just seem a little weird. I threw my hands in the air and jumped up and down, while Kurt laughed and sang. Surrender!

Suddenly he stopped and grabbed me by the shoulders. "Are you having a good birthday?" he asked earnestly, leaning into me so closely I could feel his breath on my cheek. "I’m having a great birthday," I replied. He hesitated for just a hint of a second, then kissed me. His lips were soft and sweet, and lingered on mine for what seemed like hours, but must only have been a few seconds. Then we were were spinning away again, dancing in the firelight.

Who am I?

I am drawn to fire.

Just as I am drawn to water, I am also drawn to fire. Maybe it’s a lifelong need for balance that inspires this dual nature (I am a Libra, not that I put any stock in that stuff), but as I’ve gotten older, I am more and more captivated by fiery colors and flavors and experiences. As a child, I despised the color orange. Now, it’s my favorite color. It is the color of hot peppers, and tropical fruits, and desert flowers. It is the color of fire, and of a life lived passionately and with celebration.

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Trash Aviation Founder, Jim Boatscum

Trash Aviation Founder, Jim Boatscum
online dating hints
Image by Velo abzug
Jim Boatskum, founder of Trash Aviation unincorporated, holds in his left hand, the prototype radio controlled stunt flier made from a plastic pop bottle, styrofoam cup, styrofoam meat trays, tape and bubble rap & in Jim’s right hand, a balsa glider I made for . While the battery in T-1 charges, we launched the free-flight glider on this fine day on the grassy hill in Bellingham WA.

An now, a message from the President:
DOWNWARD BOUND – with Hippie Jim
Permalink +
Mon, Jun 14, 2010, 11:34 am // Kamalla Rose Kaur

Bums don’t quit when they hit bottom…
Bums don’t quit when they hit bottom, they punch right through and keep going. Quitting is for addicts.

With the ongoing harvest, processing, and export of the middle class you may find yourself canned, fired, baked, fried, or just burnt out. You imagine you’ll just become a bum, but it’s not that easy. You need training to live like me. Takes skill, study, and aptitude to be a bum. Bumming has its traditions and techniques because there are ways to do things… well, sometimes there aren’t. We used to be hobos and tramps. Can’t be a hobo no more because you can’t hop a train to India or China where the jobs are. Can’t be a tramp these days without silicone and botox. So I’m going to teach a poverty survival class called DOWNWARD BOUND, because the poor and destitute are the fastest growing market in the USA! We don’t buy anything, but we can make up for it in volume. DOWNWARD BOUND charges no money, but you have to want to be a bum. Like any other job, you won’t get hired if you’re not enthusiastic.

Around Puget Sound, we’ve had bums for as long as we’ve had people who disapprove of them. To hear the missionaries talk, the fur traders were bums. Dirty Dan was a bum. We have old bums from the days of freighthopping, middle-aged bums from the Vietnam and Gulf wars, young bums from Jerry’s death, little kids in bum schools, and we’ve got fitness freaks losing bums all over the place. We got ’em moving here in droves, running from the weather in Florida and Texas, running from predators in California, bummed out by Enron and Arnold. These folks ain’t raised up to be poor, they got no experience and no life skills except paying for things. It’s hard work not working, for those used to not working in corporations.

Like how bums got no water cooler. No cubicles. No daily commute. No boss. With no boss, who’s going to tell you what to do? Glenn Beck? Earth First!? People tell the homeless what to do, they always say, “Get a job!” What do you say to someone who sees a “will work for food” sign and says “get a job”? Like the bum’s hoping to be rescued by aliens with that sign? Or score hot babes? That only works on the Internet. Seriously, when’s the last time YOU saw a sign saying, Bums Wanted?

Without a cubicle, where are you going to sleep? Where are you going to get dates off Craigslist, post videos of co-workers breaking the law, or get your WoW fix? Where are you going to get Post-It notes? How are you going to keep your online resume up to date, not to mention Facebook? And no water cooler – people have hung around water coolers since there were village wells. Where do bums get to hang? Where do they find drinking water?

There IS free coffee for bums, but it’s not worth what you pay for it.

You gotta be creative to be poor. Times change and you adapt. I used to live at the airport under a plane, but those days flew. I lived on a boat once. I lived under a boat once. Under was better. I had a high rise apartment inside the old Oeser chimney. What a view! Then one night some amateur scientist decides to shoot fireworks up that chimney. I got down the ladder alive and we both fled the scene before the uniforms got there. After that I slept in the planter box at the Bank of America. That worked great for me because I get up early, and they sleep in.

Actually this town is a peaceful resting place. If you can snooze while sitting upright, holding a book, you can sleep anywhere in Bellingham.

Food here in the Pacific Northwest is no problem either, especially for meat-eating bums like me. With a carrot in one hand and a big stick in the other, bagging Bambi is easy. I used to use a snare to catch deer but I caught hippies that way. Do you know how hard it is to clean one of them?

Beside venison, there’s lots of other local food. Have you noticed more black squirrels around town? That’s because the gray ones taste better. And I eat lots of birds. I made me a bird zapper on a cell tower in the woods. Works good on hotdogs too, but it’s hard to find hotdogs off-leash. So how do bums roast game without a stove? Forget about fires, you can’t get wood, you can’t burn, and you can’t smoke. Again you got to move with the times. When I lived under that jet plane, when they fired her up I’d heave a venison roast, or food bank turkey, through the engine. It came out cooked, sliced, and smoked. I got a patent for spiral sliced sandwich meat too. Or you can take a long bamboo pole, stick something on the end and poke it into a substation. Pow! Takes the fur and feathers right off.

Now my favorite way to cook salmon is to lay it in the back window of a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda. That was the best salmon-cooking car ever. You just lay that fish under the sloping back window on a sunny day, set a can of pepper spray next to it and when the can explodes, the fish is done – AND seasoned! Used to use Mace, but people like hot pepper nowadays.

Bathing is no problem for bums in these parts. I get showered-on most everyday. On rare hot days the lawn sprinklers come on at 4 a.m. Or if you want a real long hot soak, I recommend the executive bathroon at the Port of Bellingham. It is some sort of temple with this huge, I mean 8 feet across, fancy imitation marble sink. It looks like a giant bird bath, or communal baptismal font, with a big brass shower head above squirting warm water. I figure Port commisioners use that sink to wash their hands after signing dirty deals. Once when they weren’t there, I plugged the drain, stripped naked and climbed in. Heavenly, but don’t use their soap.

Back when you were middle class you needed to know who’s who. Now you need to know what’s what.

With Hippie Jim’s poverty survival course, DOWNWARD BOUND, you will also learn:

1. Who works for you and who doesn’t. (Hint: people wearing uniforms don’t work for you anymore. Not even if the uniform says “Burger King” on the pocket.)

2. The banks don’t work for you any more either, so you can learn to keep your money on your body somewhere no one will go, even for money. (Hint: after a month, your sock is sufficient).

3. How to tell companies that want to kill you from those that just don’t want you around? (Hint: the first group have “General,” “Corporation,” or “Limited” in their name, and the second have someone’s first name”)

4. Food Bank, good; Blood Bank, bad; Sperm Bank, good; Data Bank, bad. More about banks…

5. Mullen, good; nettles, bad: toiletries from nature. Do Bums Shit in the Woods? Sanitation without sewers. Health without medicine. Dreads without head lice.

With so many of us in economic freefall, we’re going to need expert advice in poverty survival. Call Hippie Jim, or stay tuned for more details.

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Exit Strategies For Online Dating Disasters!

Exit Strategies For Online Dating Disasters!

Exit Strategies For Online Dating Disasters!

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Exit Strategies For Online Dating Disasters!

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Posted: Oct 24, 2010 |Comments: 0
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Has your online dating friend turned out to be nothing like what you were expecting when you finally met for the first time? If you have decided to take your love hunt online, rule number one – always have an exit strategy ready in case of a first date disaster.

Giving your new friend the brush off is never going to be easy, nevertheless you can take measures to cushion the blow. Rejection is one of the fastest ways to destroy one’s self esteem, which can take many weeks or months to recover from. So if you find yourself on a first date and that elusive “click” is not evident you have no option but to finalize the date and it’s time to be cruel, but kind.

The easiest way to avoid a first date catastrophe is to date intelligently in the first place. Although you may have accumulated various friends through your online dating Sydney website, be extremely particular with whom you choose to meet in person. Stop a first date tragedy before it’s too late. Use as many resources as you can to verify your friend is the same person that attracted you to their dating profile in the first place.

The beauty with online dating is that you’re allowed to be ruthless to a certain degree. The pain caused by on online rejection doesn’t even come close compared to a real life face to face rejection. Online dating provides a bottomless pool of online fish in the sea, so it’s much easier to get dumped online, the online dating revolving door is relentless – when one door closes, another opens.

Try saying something like “It’s been great meeting you but I’ll keep looking at some other profiles thanks “. Then simply do not respond to their communications. Making up self-justifications and fake apologies can just leave the other person hanging on – some people can be slower than others.

When someone does gain your interest, check out his/her Face Book page so you can look at more photos of that person and get a further gauge of their personality. Chat with them online in a real time chat session, preferably with a video cam so you can assess them physical and mentally. As you become further acquainted take steps to verify their authenticity by asking to call your new friend at work, or ask for their home phone number – if they are reluctant to hand it out, they are probably married.

In the end, the most useful and gracious way of giving your internet dating friend the brush off is to use a little tactfulness and honesty. Too much tactfulness, however, and he or she might not get the hint. Try to be up front in a positive way that doesn’t demoralize them. Keep it simple, to the point, then move on.

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Matt Fuller works in the online dating industry. Matt’s website offers free online dating Sydney and includes singles chat rooms. Visit the site for more dating resources and relationship articles.

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