As I opened a new Firefox tab and navigated to OkCupid, it occurred to me that the time and effort I put into this website is disproportionate...to? with? the return I get on that investment. I have looked through my matches on enough reasonably-spaced occasions to know that the few who are possibly compatible are countable on one hand. Still, I dig into the site and continuously re-edit my profile. Why?
Promising matches or not, I do have fun with the match questions, especially when I think up and remember to add a bunch of them that are particularly relevant to me and people who are socially similar (as I like to think, at least). As for my profile, I've always been a perfectionist when it comes to such things; with this site in particular, I'm perennially paranoid that I've failed to represent myself accurately and precisely enough. The odd thing is, I suspect that the sheer length of the profile scares many people off, yet I consistently have to fight the urge to make it longer.
When it comes to editing decisions, there is something of a battle on in my head between the numerous, dryish disclaimers I feel are necessary to support successful interaction, and the patchy but usually very different profile preferences I expect/intuit/have pieced together from other site users. I desperately want to sidestep the misunderstandings, incompatible goals, and unmet expectations from the beginning, but I simultaneously do not want to put off those who are borderline compatible but not quite sure that they want to deal with what's on the other side of that "message" button. It's a tightrope walk that I, rather than navigating gracefully, pursue by repeatedly tipping and falling over to one side; more details, re-read, it sounds "not nice," re-word, now meaning has been watered down, re-write, decide it doesn't matter and edit it out. Repeat.
The core problem is that the way people socialize is too casual to fit someone who is never what other people expect her to be. I can't do what they do; I can't just put myself out there with a Take It or Leave It sign around my neck because experience shows that most will have no idea what to do with it and will Leave It by default. I can't release my album if the format consists of soundbites, because my music doesn't make sense unless you listen to a whole song.
I'm that toy, that piece of furniture whose construction you just couldn't figure out without the instruction booklet, despite all of your mechanical know-how. You are missing out on something if you give up and leave it sitting there in your garage. Come back, please! Give yourself time to overcome the rage of failure or the confusion if you must, but give me another go. I've put so much effort into composing this instruction booklet, it just might make up for the time and frustration you've expended trying to "feel" your way through the process.
I also think that I allow myself to be lulled by the slickness of the site into believing that some day, a very good match will stop by, and all my efforts will finally have the potential to pay off (merely the potential; I could be caught, awkward and incomplete, between edited versions and miss my chance).
There's also the fact that I don't have any other viable options.
Promising matches or not, I do have fun with the match questions, especially when I think up and remember to add a bunch of them that are particularly relevant to me and people who are socially similar (as I like to think, at least). As for my profile, I've always been a perfectionist when it comes to such things; with this site in particular, I'm perennially paranoid that I've failed to represent myself accurately and precisely enough. The odd thing is, I suspect that the sheer length of the profile scares many people off, yet I consistently have to fight the urge to make it longer.
When it comes to editing decisions, there is something of a battle on in my head between the numerous, dryish disclaimers I feel are necessary to support successful interaction, and the patchy but usually very different profile preferences I expect/intuit/have pieced together from other site users. I desperately want to sidestep the misunderstandings, incompatible goals, and unmet expectations from the beginning, but I simultaneously do not want to put off those who are borderline compatible but not quite sure that they want to deal with what's on the other side of that "message" button. It's a tightrope walk that I, rather than navigating gracefully, pursue by repeatedly tipping and falling over to one side; more details, re-read, it sounds "not nice," re-word, now meaning has been watered down, re-write, decide it doesn't matter and edit it out. Repeat.
The core problem is that the way people socialize is too casual to fit someone who is never what other people expect her to be. I can't do what they do; I can't just put myself out there with a Take It or Leave It sign around my neck because experience shows that most will have no idea what to do with it and will Leave It by default. I can't release my album if the format consists of soundbites, because my music doesn't make sense unless you listen to a whole song.
I'm that toy, that piece of furniture whose construction you just couldn't figure out without the instruction booklet, despite all of your mechanical know-how. You are missing out on something if you give up and leave it sitting there in your garage. Come back, please! Give yourself time to overcome the rage of failure or the confusion if you must, but give me another go. I've put so much effort into composing this instruction booklet, it just might make up for the time and frustration you've expended trying to "feel" your way through the process.
I also think that I allow myself to be lulled by the slickness of the site into believing that some day, a very good match will stop by, and all my efforts will finally have the potential to pay off (merely the potential; I could be caught, awkward and incomplete, between edited versions and miss my chance).
There's also the fact that I don't have any other viable options.
