OKCupid, The Pushy Mother
I haven’t been hanging out on OKCupid a lot lately, mainly because FetLife is proving more interesting. (Mainly because, well, you know, naked.) But I still like OKCupid because of its complex ranking algorithms – I always love seeing who I’m compatible or who I’m not compatible with, and sometimes I sort globally by mutual match to see who is most like me in the world.
However, OKC’s introduced this new feature that creeps me out.
I just got an email that said, “The_ferrett, [user_name] is checking you out right now!” And it told me that they’re bugging me now because she’s an exceptionally good match, in bold letters and all. “You should check her out, too,” it urges me, and then tells me that “viewing someone a bunch won’t send multiples” and “you can stalk safely without looking like a stalker.”
(OKCupid apparently does not learn, since the list of people who’ve viewed your profiles used to be called “Stalkers” until some people without a sense of humor about such things complained vociferously. Now they’re back to stalking jokes. I’m sure that will go well.)
Regardless, though I checked out [user_name] – and while she was pretty, she was an 86% match. Really, OKCupid? 86% is enough to Kermit arm-flail and get me to run over and say hello? (For the record, I’m 99% with Gini and 94% with Bec, and there are at least fifteen other people in the Cleveland area – most of whom I know – who are over 90%.)
It feels uncomfortably like a stereotypical Jewish mother pushing me together. “You’ll love her!” she reassures me, shoving me towards the door, knowing that 86% maybe isn’t the best, but it could be. “What am I not here for, if not to set you up?” And meanwhile, I’m sure she’s a very nice girl (in fact, “nice girl” is part of her user name), but did you have to call me out of nowhere to try to hook us up?
I’m tempted to send her an email saying, “OKCupid totally thinks we should get it on.” But I can’t imagine that would go over well.
(In the meanwhile, if you’re on OKCupid, feel free to drop by my profile and tell me who you are – like I said, I’m obsessed with match percentages, and seeing LJ/blog people in other picture-heavy profiles often allows me to attach more of a personality to a commentor.)
The Usual Awards-Flogging, 2011 Edition
It’s that time of year again, where authors everywhere point at their published works and go, “Hey, if you can nominate for the Hugos or the Nebulas, check this out!” And I’m not sure how much that helps. I think it’s the stories that matter, and you either remember them at the end of the year or you don’t.
(Besides, I’m told according to some who game the system that if you tell people about your stories after the nomination periods begun, you’ve already screwed up – most people either vote right on Day One or right on Day Final, without much in between. I’m a Day Final, m’self. And here I am, three days late.)
That said, there’s also a lot of stories you could have read during the year that maybe have slipped your mind, and so I shall mention the ones I’d like to remind you of. I’ve linked to them online when they are available – if they’re not, and you’re eligible to nominate, let me know and I’ll send you your very hand-created copy to peruse on the privacy of your own Kindle.
Short Stories:
“Run,” Bakri Says (Asimov’s) – My rather intense story of a girl who must rescue her time-travelling terrorist brother, this is my pick for my best story of the year. Lois Tilton at Locus (a notoriously tough reviewer) gave it a “Recommended,” and my Christmas squee came when Doctor Who writer Paul Cornell (who wrote “The Family of Blood,” one of my favorite takes on Tennant-Doctor) said that it was a “bit of a masterpiece.” Also, Tangent Online recommended it as one of their “Best of 2011” stories.
iTime (Redstone SF) – My other time-travelling fiasco story of 2011, this one’s about a socially-inept physics student whose air-headed roommate gets her hands on the first personal time-travelling device. Tangent Online also recommended it as one of their “Best of 2011” stories, except they ranked this one even higher.
Novelettes:
Sauerkraut Station (Giganotosaurus) – My “Little House on the Prairie in Space” riff, this chronicles the tale of young Lizzie, who’s lived out on remote trading post Sauerkraut Station all of her life, and tells what happens to her once the war started. I don’t know how many positive reviews this racked up on the trades, but I received more positive emails on this than anything else I published. So I’ll ask y’all to take a look.
Over on FetLife, that Facebook for kinksters, I’m musing about some problems I’m having in balancing my new kinkiness and keeping my existing girlfriends happy. This was a problem that came to a head at the end of 2011, leading to me pulling back a little on certain aspects of my kink until I can find a better solution than what I’ve been doing.
The essay’s called Recent Poly Troubles, And Gordian Knots, and it starts like this:
I like to fuck a lot. I’m casual about sex.
I have several women I’m already entangled with.
This leads to problems.
In 2011, I started getting kinkier. And that’s been a tremendous boon in many ways; I’ve been learning to talk dirty (no mean feat for this polite New England boy), I’ve come to understand that my facility with words can make me a good Dominant even when my lack of physical training falls short, and discovering that a little rough sex added in with my usual cuddles can really spice things up.
And a large part of that opening up was due to sexting….
This essay’s a little more personal than they tend to run, since it’s about a current problem I’m still struggling with, as opposed to my usual relationship essays of “Here’s what I did, and the wise solution that Gini helped me engineer to fix it.” And so I’m purposely stashing it behind a firewall of sorts. If you’re interested, then go over and look (and I’m told that BugMeNot has some FetLife logins). If not, then move on.
Foreign Policy Discussions
In arguments, we all have little tantrumy moments. And one of Gini’s is to say, sullenly, “Fine, you’re right, you’re always right, and I’m always wrong.”
Today, we devised a term for the sort of argument that leads to this behavior: Foreign Policy Discussions.
Which is to say that if you tell an expert on Middle East politics your fine plan to create peace in the Middle East, she will dissect your simple-minded plans. She’ll point out all the political factions that would make it impossible to get your laws passed, and all of the cultural issues that would make this well-intentioned plan seem like fascism, and then she’d finish demolishing your idea by pointing out all the ways that people would actually work to get around the laws and barriers you passed.
Once she’d completely dissected every one of your arguments, you slump in your chair and ask, “Fine. How do you create peace in the Middle East?”
She will take a drag on her cigarette and say, wearily, “Fuck if I know.”
The reason I say this is because I just spent ten minutes explaining to Gini why a suggestion of hers for a problem I had wouldn’t work. And once I was done, she threw up her hands and said, “Fine, I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“No,” I laughed. “I don’t have a fucking clue. My way sucks, too – maybe worse. But yours wouldn’t work, either. We need to devise a third option.”
So we know what those discussions are: foreign policy. Just because I’m telling you that your idea’s not feasible doesn’t mean that I have a better solution. We’re just looking at all the awful options and we are, in the words of that wise old philosopher Rowlf, hoping something better comes along.