Welcome to PlanetOut Personals!

Personal ads tend to fluctuate in importance in my life, depending on various things: my mood, my idealism, my realism, my desperation, my disillusionment, my horniness level, the temperature outside, the newspaper headlines. They have brought me coffee, new faces, interesting stories, perspective on life in Tennessee, perspective on life as a Mormon, and sometimes even sex. But they have yet to bring me love.

I was going through the personals this morning, reading the ads of other people and tweaking my own.

This is what I’m getting paid for, right?

No?

Oh.

The concept of a personal ad — at least, if you’re using it to find a relationship — is inherently flawed. It’s not just the fact that you’re making decisions based on some text and a photo, although that’s a part of it. Basically, personal ads share a problem even with something like Date Bait, where you’re actually seeing people in person. The problem is, you’re seeing someone completely out of context. He’s selling himself.

This sort of all-American hype and self-promotion is great if you’re looking to buy a new mixer, because you know what you want there: you want something that can mix. You want your floor wax to give you shiny floors, you want your camera to take great pictures. But what do you want your boyfriend to do? Make you laugh? Walk your dog? Rim you? Clean your shower? Pick your cotton? Boyfriends don’t “do” anything. They just “are.” And you can’t find one if you’re going to be task-oriented about it.

I go into PlanetOut and type in my search criteria. I choose among male, female, MTF, FTM. Gay, bisexual, queer, lesbian, straight, questioning. Type in an age range. Looking for relationship, long-term relationship, sex, friendship, support, “hiking partner or whatever,” something online. Butch, femme, androgynous, all over the map. African American/Black, Asian/Pacific Islander, Latina/Latino, White/European, et cetera. Activist, bear, blue collar, circuit boy, conservative, goth, hippie/granola, homebody, jock/sporty, leather, military, preppy, punk, suburban, urban hipster. Slim, swimmer, average, stocky, musclebound, curvy, athletic, petite, heavy. CD player or cassette, A/C, leather back seats or vinyl, power windows, small, medium or large, fries or onion rings, permanent press or tumble dry, slice, dice, puree, julienne. Metallic green or non-glossy teal, eggshell or ecru, mauve or taupe. Should I buy the hardcover or wait for the paperback?

If you don’t fit the above physical description, dont worry about it. It’s a preference, not a requirement.

If I don’t fit the above physical description, you’re not going to talk to me.

Okay, random thoughts: I’m just your average Wile E. Coyote super genius type – though often my evil schemes work out, I have been known to end up holding up a sign that said “yikes” moments before something nasty landed on me.

You’re making me a little uneasy.

Am finally ready to avail myself to someone special, after having finished grieving a relationship that ended a year ago. I want to meet someone who will reap the benefits of all that I learned in that relationship. Timing wasn’t right then, but now it is.

You’re making me run.

The sad thing is, any of these guys could be terrific, but I’m not going to know it. You can’t meet someone when he’s selling himself, and yet whenever you post a personal ad, that’s what you’re doing. I look over my ad, trying to pick a catchy title, trying to strike the right tone, one that makes me seem sane, but not boring; witty, but not obnoxious; interesting, but not exhausting; intelligent, but not intellectually threatening. And then a couple of weeks later I go back and read it afresh and I realize that I’ve failed on all counts. And yet how could I not? You can’t meet people this way. You can’t choose among people like this. Sending someone an e-mail, tossing a few messages back and forth, talking on the phone, and trekking over to Xando to meet them for coffee takes too much time and effort for you to waste the choice on someone whose ad gives you even the slightest frisson of uneasiness. One: People are flawed. Two: If you have a flaw, you won’t be contacted. Great system.

Newsflash: people are complicated! And thus:

I’ve considered including a link to my blog in my personal ad.

An Internet marriage of PlanetOut and Blogger — wouldn’t that be neat? I could write, “Here’s a link to my online journal. If you don’t know what to think of me right now, read my journal for a couple of weeks and see what you think then. If you like me or find me interesting, say hi.” I’m still considering it. I don’t know if it’s such a great idea to post up my URL indiscriminately like that. On the other hand, I can’t really think of any other reason not to do it, except that friends might come across it, and only one of my “pre-bloggin’ days” friends knows I have an online journal, and he doesn’t even know the URL.

You can’t get to know someone who’s trying to get you to know him. You can only get to know someone who doesn’t think he’s being evaluated. In fact, you can only get to know him if you don’t think you’re evaluating him. And then some random day, after months of looking out the peephole, asking to see everyone’s ID card before opening the door, you notice that a guy whom you hadn’t even known you were thinking about has somehow seeped into your life through the cracks in the wall.

That’s the way it happens.

In the meantime: do I want fries or onion rings?