I woke up late this morning, and not being in any hurry to get to work, I lazily surfed the Daily Blog Tips site, looking for advice and suggestions that I could apply to my own blog. I came across one post that linked to this article on how bloggers can use social networking sites like StumbleUpon to boost their traffic. So with nothing better to do 10 minutes before I had to head on to work, I submitted my blog post about women emulating men, yawned, then went to get dressed. My jaw unhinged and dropped when I went back to check my stats one last time.

The result of that seemingly innocuous submittal was the biggest traffic count I’ve ever seen since I started this blog. I generated over 50 visits in just under 15 minutes, and it was still going strong by the time I left for work.

I think I may have stumbled onto something here (uhhh, no pun intended). To be honest though, I wasn’t able to wrap my head around the appeal of social networking sites, partly because I couldn’t understand exactly how some of them worked. Sites like StumbleUpon, Flickr, YouTube and Last.FM (all of which I belong to) were easy enough to figure out, but places like Del.icio.us, Digg and Reddit made less sense to me. I think part of it might be because I wasn’t interested in what the most “digged” articles or highest ranked posts of the day happened to be. That perspective might change though as I give these sites a harder look. But one thing that will never, ever change is my utter disdain for places like MySpace, and other social networks that emulate them. The ilk you find at these online ghettos is something I just can’t abide by.

After thinking about what I wrote earlier about being set apart, I realized it isn’t people I don’t want to associate myself with: it’s ugly people. Not physically ugly mind you, but people who just don’t know how to be civilized. You see it all the time on MySpace and YouTube sites. People who drop f-bombs in comments for YouTube videos that show nothing more than a harmless clip of Big Bird singing on Sesame Street. People who feel the compelling need to take snapshots of their hairy buttingtocks and moon me on MySpace. Why? Why do they do this? Why must people always be so utterly depraved and tasteless? All I want is a little civility, to be able to enjoy surfing to a Peter Cetera’s MySpace page without seeing disgusting, lewd (and illegal) photos in the comments, or enjoy a YouTube video without some schmuck cluttering up the comments with mindless f-bombs. Crikey mate, get a grip you psychotic blokes.

Fortunately, though, I may have stumbled (again, no pun intended) onto a way to draw some of the better quality Internet surfers out there to my home on the web, all by making legitimate use of the social networking tools. I have to figure by doing so, eventually a few gems will end up at my doorstep and become regular readers, even if it means they had to ride a wave of sewage to get here.

Paradoxically, the kind of people I’d like visit to my blog would actually be those who are unfamiliar with Internet usage. I know it’s strange, but I think I’d enjoy the perspective of folks who rarely use computers (much less the Internet) more than those who basically spend their entire lives online (like I do). My hearing loss precludes me from being able to enjoy a healthy and active social life, so to compensate I do a lot of my talking through the keyboard. Still, I think it’d be nice to meet people (specifically a hot babe), who could pull me into the real world, and help me enjoy all that it has to offer there.

But until then, gotta keep on surfing.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but there seems to be a lot of weirdos hanging out at these Internet dating sites. I think my first clue may have been when I got a “wink” from a transsexual interested in meeting me. Or perhaps it was the message I received (in broken English) from an apparently Russian woman who liked my “structure.”

Regardless, surfing these online matchmaking sites has truly been one of the most depressing experiences I’ve ever had in recent years. If the demographics of these sites are even remotely accurate in revealing what’s out there in the real world, I think I might be inclined in taking a nice long nap on a busy train track.

Ahhhhhh, if only I were an atheist, ultra-liberal slimeball. Then the girls I’d be interested would be a dime a dozen. Only interested in casual sex? No problem! Want me to join you in an anti-Bush rally? Sign me up! Getting ready to go crazy at the next gothic rave? Let me put on my black lipstick and it’s on, baby!

Unfortunately, I walk a slightly different path.

But whether it was luck, (or maybe fate getting ready to play another cruel joke on me), a list of matching profiles sent by automated mail landed in my inbox. One of the profiles was of a woman who could very well be my own personal “Uptown Girl.” She was conservative, Christian, educated, and accomplished in her field. She came from an affluent background, worked for a prestigious employer, had a large family and a healthy circle of friends.

In other words, she was so far out of my league I’d need a time dilation device to open a wormhole just so I could get into the same UNIVERSE her league was in.

But for whatever crazy reason, I sent her a “wink” anyway and hoped for the best.

Well, she actually responded, gave her email address, and we have been trading messages for about a month now. There were times I thought she had lost interest, and just when I was ready to write her off, I get another email from her. Her last email finally indicated her desire to meet me in person.

Oh…….. crap.

It was in that moment that I realized I wasn’t ready for this. Worse still, my profile wasn’t exactly the most… accurate profile I’ve ever put together. I may have… embellished a few things. Truth be told, it reads more like a of resume I’d be submitting if I were applying for a job as an attorney general for the United States.

Yep, I’m an idiot.

But I knew why I did this. I’ve been observing that men who flat out lie their asses off about everything from their height down to the kind of car they drive usually get all the girls, even when they get found out. For whatever reason, girls who have become emotionally invested in these lying bastards tend to forgive them their fibs, whereas a brutally honest guy never gets a chance to begin with. Morale of the story? It pays to lie.

So that’s what I tried to do. Not so much as lying, but holding back crucial details about myself that a girl probably really does need to know about before taking the plunge with me.

Now faced with this dilemma, I realized something else: Damn I suck at lying. I mean what happened to me? I used to be so good at this, and now instead I’m racked with guilt for even telling a little fib. I knew deep down I’d never be able to master the fine art of playing the kind of dirty games that other scum sucking man pigs from the depths of hell had become so adept at playing.

So when Uptown Girl expressed a desire to meet me, I decided to be more forthcoming about who I was. A LOT more forthcoming. Most of my dirty laundry had been aired in my last email to her, and I concluded by saying I’d understand perfectly if she decided against meeting with me, and if she was longer interested in me romantically, that maybe we could at least be friends. I knew if none of my flaws were enough to deter her, then I just might have something here.

Maybe this time, I won’t have to pretend. Maybe this time a girl will finally show interest in me for who I am, not for who I pretend to be. Maybe, JUST maybe, I will have finally found someone looking for a downtown man to call her own.

I haven’t heard from her since the beginning of the month. Yep, a nap on the train tracks is starting to sound REALLY good right now…