Match game

Live blogging tonight. Usual time, usual place.

The first thing that strikes me about eHarmony.com‘s questionnaire: this mother-effer is LONG. I’ve been at this ten minutes, and I’m only 37% complete? After my age, height, weight, and income, what else do you need to know?

Let me back up a sec. No, I’m not getting divorced or separated. eHarmony advertises they’ll let you view your matches without a fee, so I’m curious to see who THEY think I would like. Besides, I figured this would be an easy post.

Hmm. “Imagine that your friends had to choose the best FOUR descriptions of you from the items listed below.” I can only choose four. Intelligent, articulate, funny, but what about number four?

I know — modest! Next page.

So far, I’ve “discovered” Karen and I are remarkably well matched on religion, politics, introvertedness (is that a word?), etc. No surprise there. We have our problems, but we’ve always been remarkably similar individuals. No, my operating hypothesis is that eHarmony won’t generate any truly interesting love connections for me. But how far off base will their suggestions be?

Conflict management: “I tend to resolve disagreements as quickly as possible,” or something like that. Give that one a 7. (It’s a 1 to 7 scale, disagree to agree.)

Oh, this one is precious. I’m supposed to rate, from ‘not at all important’ (1) to ‘very important’ (7), the following characteristic: “Knowing that my spouse is usually to blame when things go wrong.” Who would give that a 7 — someone who wants to marry a dishrag? Similarly: “Knowing that my partner will always forgive me if I make a mistake.” Would you really want someone who would forgive you for anything? What kind of person is that?

Twenty minutes later . . . at last! I can skip the “upload a picture” step and view my matches — as promised on TV!

My first match is Kate, an HR Administrator living in Los Angeles. She’s 44, 5′ 2″, Asian, not religious, nonsmoker, drinks only a few times each year.

Next is Stacia, 37, an attorney, 5′ 8″ (guess she doesn’t give a damn about her guy’s height), nonsmoker, drinks several times a week . . .

This is boring. Why can’t I see their pictures? Oh — I have to subscribe. Well, what does that cost?

One month only: $69.95. Twelve months: $24.95 a month, billed in one installment of $299.40. And yes, they have plans for everything in between.

Okay, so I’m not so curious (nor so dedicated a blogger) that I’m willing to pop seventy bucks. But if I were single, I probably would, because you know, that questionnaire was damned thorough. They hit all the important points — I would want a nonsmoker, non- or minimally religious liberal who wants to have sex constantly.

Oh . . . and they only found seven matches for me, despite the fact I told them geography mattered only a little. Guess those non- or minimally religious, politically liberal passion junkies are rarer than I thought.

D.

Edited to add . . .

From my FREE! personality assessment:

You are important. So are other people, especially if they are in trouble. You have a tender heart, but you know how to establish and keep personal boundaries. You are empathetic and compassionate, but you also believe that it’s best if people solve their own problems and learn to take care of themselves, if they are able.

You are deeply moved by the needs of others, but you know that if you don’t take good care of yourself, you’ll wind up being of no use to anyone. So yours is a thoughtful compassion. You strive to be fair and sensible, taking care of others while also taking care of yourself.

and

Those whom you help will appreciate the way you leave them with their dignity by expecting them to collaborate in their own rescue.

There’s more, but those were the interesting bits. It’s all true, of course 🙂 Except the part about establishing and keeping personal boundaries. NOT. I have horrible issues with boundaries. I’m far better at it now than I was as a kid; back then, I was a personality sponge. Or mirror. It disturbed me to no end to see myself morph from day to day, depending on who I hung out with.