Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - August

This is post #9 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

August.

Coworkers Wendy and Bryan’s musical-going group invited me for Circus Juventas, a local youth circus that trains students in the art of ... circusing. This year’s show was a rendition of the Wizard of Oz, and I was wowed; their costumes were exceptionally elaborate, and the overall production value of the performance was awe-inspiring. I’ve not had much circus-going experience in the past, but I was impressed. Also my neck was sore for days afterward, from craning to see the acrobats.

My filmmaking friends and I finally scheduled a one-day shoot to pick up one last scene for Paperclip, the short movie we shot in fall of 2011. It involved running around the woods with a camera, “chasing” our cheerleader actress and then dumping her in a river (don’t worry, we hired a water safety guy). Fun day, also stressful because there were many angles to shoot and not very much time to do it in. I didn’t hydrate well enough so made myself terribly ill on the way home. That part was not fun. I made my friends I was carpooling with leave me at a rest-stop, because I just could not be in a moving car any more. I called my parents, knowing it would take them an hour to get there, which would give me time to re-hydrate, breathe, call the paramedics to make sure I wasn’t suffering heat stroke, and so on. They dropped what they were doing to come get me (and fortunately I was feeling better by the time they got there). I have the most awesome parents in the world.

The following Monday my business associate Jordan and I met with the producers of a new feature film that was about to start shooting in town, to see about doing extras casting for them. Just like a Taylor Swift song, I “should’ve said no,” because doing extras casting on this thing turned into an absolute nightmare. Despite many desperate pleas to the production to give us any advance notice on what scenes were shooting, the ADs continually gave us, at best, 48 hours notice on how many extras they would need for each day. Usually it was even less. This is freaking Minnesota. People here have jobs. They can’t just take off work last-minute just because you couldn’t plan ahead a few extra days, not at the small amount of money you’re paying. It truly was unbelievable, how disorganized communication was. And then, the ADs had the audacity to be upset with us, when we didn’t hit our numbers. For the pitifully small amount of profit we made, it was not worth it. My friends Anne and John took the brunt of this frustration, they were on the front lines booking all the extras (although I did get in the trenches a couple days to help make phone calls). All told we booked 400 spots - many were repeat people (one guy worked ten days!), but many were one-offs, which meant after they wrapped, there was a crap-ton [official unit of measurement] of data-entry to add all the extras into my online bill pay, as vendors in QuickBooks, as bills in QuickBooks, and then finally, to send all the payments. On the plus side... it’s over.

I bought an elliptical from Sears. Which turned into a debacle. The salesman who helped me was wonderful, he spent way more time with me than I deserved, was incredibly patient, friendly - customer service at it’s best. If you’re ever in the market for some exercise equipment, try to find a guy named Dick Fogg at the Mall of America Sears store, he gets six out of five stars from me. However the Sears delivery service, gets a negative 3 stars. They did everything possible to make sure I was an unsatisfied customer. It started out with the first delivery team assembling the elliptical incorrectly - shoddy workmanship that frankly should have cost them their jobs - the thing was unstable, made clunking noises and had screws missing. Then followed a comedy of errors of me calling Sears to request/demand a repair, Sears agreeing to a time, then changing it, then not showing up, setting up a new appointment, showing up and only half-repairing the thing, making another appointment, showing up an hour early and wondering why I wasn’t home from work yet, and so on. This continued through I think 5 or 6 appointments/attempts at appointments, before finally they ended up replacing the entire thing and assembling a new one. And they still did it wrong: one of the foot pedals is on backwards. This I have decided just to live with, because it’s better than going through the whole rigamarole and hassle of scheduling another appointment with their non-understandable call-service (I’ve been to India, and normally I have no problem talking to a call center, but the people Sears employs do not speak English well enough to be doing their jobs). First world problems, I guess.

Matthew was moved from jail to a prison facility, so after being background-checked and approved to visit, I took a road-trip to see him. The prison - or, excuse me, “correctional facility” - looked like a castle. I mean seriously, I was surprised I didn’t have to cross a moat and draw-bridge. The officer who signed me in was very friendly, which caught me off-guard; in my very limited experience with jails and prison, everyone else who works there seems to be cantankerous and curmudgeonly. This officer, though, smiled, and patiently explained everything I’d need to know. This visit was different than at the jail - here we could do a “contact” visit, which means Matthew and I could exchange a quick hug, then sit across from each other in a row of chairs, in a larger room filled with other inmates and visitors having their conversations. We got to talk for an hour, the guard handed him “5 minute warning” slip of paper, and we said our goodbyes.

Over Labor Day weekend, Jessie, one of my best friends, came to visit from Des Moines. Her being here was my excuse to go do lots of fun entertainment that I would never do on my own: Como Zoo, the State Fair (where I ate many healthy-things-on-a-stick’s), the Renaissance Festival, the Science Museum, and had a lot of good conversations, too.

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Addendum: A few hours after publishing this post, a representative from Sears wrote a comment. In the interest of preventing spam to their email address, I've kept the comment unpublished, but will include a redacted version here:

Jeremy,

My name is Jack and I am with the Sears Social Media Escalations team. I came across your blog post concerning the delivery issues that you had with your elliptical and wanted to offer our assistance. Please accept our apology with the delivery and repair issues that you have experienced with the elliptical. We would like to have a case manager contact you to discuss this with you in greater detail and determine the best course of action at this time. If you would like to speak to us about this, please email the following information – your contact phone number, name, and phone number used at the time of purchase to ___. Again we’re sorry for any trouble this may have caused and we look forward to speaking to you soon.
Thank you,

Jack C.
Social Media Moderator
Sears Social Media Support

Saturday morning I sent them an email as requested, and less than an hour later a representative from Sears' corporate office called me and listened as I recounted my experience. She apologized, offered me a 20% refund, and promised to bring up my issues at her weekly corporate meeting. I thanked her for the refund, but stressed how it's even more important for them to fix their internal communication issues, so future customers don't have to deal with the shenanigans I did. Though there may be a limit to what she can do (and I completely understand), at least she'll raise the issues. Hopefully something will come of it. Nevertheless, kudos to Sears for A) reaching out to me, and B) taking the time to listen.

On a side-note: long ago my parents taught me always to keep notes of who I spoke to, when, and what was said, whenever it looks like the situation might turn into an ordeal. It is amazingly powerful to be able to say, months later, "I talked to Billy Sue at 10:57 a.m. and s/he told me ___." Makes you sound like a force to be reckoned with.

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - July

This is post #6 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

July.

I went to jail (just for a visit, don't worry).

eHarmony dumped me before I could even sign up.

My friend Alee's parents hosted a 4th of July party, which was in itself a lot of fun. But the remarkable moment of the day came when, in the late afternoon, a bunch of us were sitting out on the lawn and someone asked what time it was. Why is that a big deal? Because I didn't know. We'd been playing water volleyball, so I didn't have my phone on me, I wasn't connected to the outside world, and that was okay. Even more, I'd just finished the database project four days earlier, so I didn't have work waiting for me, and so I didn't need to know what time it was, because I had no where else to be and nothing else to do. It. was. beautiful.

July 5th, one of my friends from church, a seminarian who inspires me, got married, so I got to hang out with my pastor and some other church friends at the wedding and reception.

The next morning I trekked down to Des Moines for friend Jessie's birthday celebration that evening. Had some good phone conversations with friends around the country while I drove. And I have marked in my calendar that this is the day I started thinking about getting a tattoo. (don't worry Mom, I haven't acted on this yet!) For years I've thought, sure, I could see myself getting a tattoo, but only if the right idea comes along - I'm not going to get one just for the sake of getting one. The idea I have now is the word "Hope" on my left wrist, so that I could see it often and be reminded. It's an idea. Haven't made any permanent decisions yet.

After months of hearing positive stories from friends about how their therapists have challenged them, I finally rang a woman named Beverly, who was recommended to me by a trusted friend and mentor. Our first session was July 9, and of course me being me, I went in with a long list of issues we could work on (things like my fear of disappointing people, fear of failure, need for affirmation / validation, need to control / perfectionism, workaholism, etc). We've been meeting every week or two since, and Beverly's given me a lot of solid, practical advice. I take notes every meeting so I can re-read them throughout the week. So, one specific example, with regards to me being a perfectionist: "You've made this 'I have to do perfectly' thought process into an idol. It's not helping you become a better person or a more Godly person. Being a perfectionist is unattainable and you will fail. You cannot be perfect. And you're not going to be a sloth just because you're not perfect." Practical reminders that I try to review every day.

That weekend my friend Matt invited a few of us over to play with Legos. Yes. That's right. A bunch of 27-31 year-olds, building Lego buildings. It was so much fun!! Check out more photos from my Facebook profile. (the last photo here is the product of four Lego nights so far)

The next morning my friend Cathleen and I visited Life21, the church in Northfield where I had played guitar and led the worship team for a few months after college (5 years ago! I'm old). It's a tiny congregation, but they have such passion for God, and no inhibition about expressing it. Their worship is from the heart. I was humbled and flattered that so many of them still remembered me; I was greeted with hugs, and it felt like I was coming home after a long trip. The pastor even mentioned me in his sermon - I hadn't thought I'd made that much of an impact, but I guess I did. I love my current churches, but I do also miss Life21. Those are good people.

Next weekend, I had an incredibly awkward mostly-blind date with someone from the dating site I've been on, christianmingle. I got there early and brought a book to pass the time, figuring that, since she had a toddler, she might run late. An hour later, she texts me that they're finally at the park. What I didn't anticipate is that when I told her "I'm by the playground," there would be four other playgrounds in the same park! We found each other eventually, and by about 30 seconds in it was clear we not only had very little in common, but worse, very little even to talk about. I learned several important lessons here. For example: have plans to be somewhere at a certain time, so there's a definitive "out" point. And, perhaps, chat a little more on the phone or via text first, before meeting face to face. I mean, she was friendly and all, just, nothing really in common. Live and learn.

That same day, July 20, I reached... drumroll... the Zero Inbox. Zero messages in my email inbox. If you don't understand, this is a big deal. And I've more or less maintained it since. Not 100% of the time, but I don't think I've let any message lapse more than 4 days.

Friday, July 26th was the annual System Administrator Appreciation Day, and so a dozen+ of us sysadmins from work went out for lunch together at a really deluxe pasta buffet, compliments of our managers. I'll be writing more about Cray later, but suffice it to say, I really like my job, and the people I get to work with.

That evening, after being invited each year for the past several years, I finally made it to my friend John's "Lost Weekend" party. His wife takes the kids out of town and John gets the whole weekend to hang out with his friends, during which they eat lots of "healthy" food, play Rock Band and board games and so on. Being an only child I've always gotten along better with people older than I am, so hanging out with the 40-year-old guys was really fun!

Saturday, July 27th, after almost a month of beta-testing and bug-fixing, I officially launched the Samaritan Casting online database. By the end of that day we had over 140 registered users, and on September 12th, over 1000. Yes. One thousand. In less than 7 weeks. That's pretty darn cool, I think. More about the database later.

Also on July 27th, I did something I don't think I've done in literally years: I worked on songwriting. More specifically I sorted through dozens (hundreds?) of voice notes about songs I wanted to write, random text snippets, "todo" folders nested within other "todo" folders, etc. It was one of those "when I have time" projects, and... I finally had spare time!!! Can I get an amen?!

Visiting jail, and coping

This is post #7 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

July 1st I had [as far as I can remember] my first experience going to jail. Fortunately it was through the front doors, as a visitor, no handcuffs or Miranda rights involved. Of course, it took several attempts to even find the correct front doors, because the first front doors we tried were locked. Eventually we found the correct, side-front door to gain entrance.

I looked around the waiting room stupidly, then finally picked up an unmarked phone and spoke to the unfriendly lady behind the bullet-proof glass. She gestured at a pile of pink sheets of paper that I apparently should have known to fill out. After depositing my pink paper and driver's license in the metal tray for the lady to examine, I emptied my pockets into a locker and waited. And went to the bathroom. And then waited some more. And talked a bit with my friend who'd come with me.

20 minutes later a disembodied voice called my name, and I stepped through the metal detector. It begrudged me my shoes, so I had to take them off, step through again, then grab my shoes and open the door before the buzz-in lock re-locked. This brought me into an airlock, with multiple doors and no clear direction to travel. Fortunately a kind soul traveling the opposite direction, pointed me on my way. Outside the airlock, a nice man behind his own bullet proof glass had me sign in, and gave me a sticker name tag to wear. He directed me down a long hallway, at the end of which a button-less elevator opened and closed its doors for me automagically.

The elevator brought me up (I think up?) to another floor where I found half a dozen stalls. I call them stalls because each was 6 or more feet "deep", and only 2-ish feet wide. The walls in between were tiled to waist-height then plexiglass above that, so you could see between all of them. On each stall's wall was a telephone that resembled old-school pay phones, like from the 90s, before modern society, something straight out of an history eBook. At the end of each stall was a hefty pane of glass, maybe an inch or two thick. There were no people anywhere to be seen, and it took me a minute to realize the name tag sticker I was wearing had stall number "5f" written on it. I took a seat on the uncomfortable stainless steel stool in my assigned stall, and waited.

A minute later Matthew entered from a door on the opposite side of the glass, picked up the phone on his side, pressed some buttons, then gestured for me to do the same. I pressed 1 to confirm I understood our conversation would be recorded, and then the first words I heard were "can you hear me now?" Typical Matthew. For someone who had just been sentenced to nine years (six with good behavior), I was amazed how bright his spirits were. He wasn't angry, he wasn't bitter. Instead he said, in so many words, he did the crime and now was rightfully doing the time.

We talked for an hour. Well, mostly I just listened - it was clear Matthew needed to talk, and frankly his stories were more important than any I had brought.

Thrice I neared tears as I looked around and took in my surroundings, the realization dawning that this - the phones, the impenetrable pane of glass - this would be our friendship's new reality for the next six years, and I don't know how to deal with that. I held back my tears and focused instead on the moment, determined to remain present. Mourning would come on its own later.

A recorded voice interrupted, saying we had one minute left. We said our hasty goodbyes, and Matthew put his hand up on the glass; I returned the gesture, and we hung up. The no-button elevator brought me back downstairs, I retrieved my wallet and phone from the locker, and left, sad, but also with some peace.

I met with my pastor a couple days later, and he was pretty blunt in telling me 'your relationship [with Matthew] is going to be different from now on; he is not going to be able to fulfill the same role he has in the past in you life.' A younger Jeremy's gut reaction would have been resistance and to exclaim "you're wrong!", but I could tell right in that moment that I've grown in emotional maturity, because I heard what Greg said, and understood he was saying it out of love and care for me (and not because he's trying to say anything mean about Matthew). A younger me could not have received that, but my "older, wiser" self is at a place where I've seen enough friendships come and go naturally that Greg's words didn't scare me. I know that wherever Matthew and my friendship goes, it will progress there naturally, and I do not need to force it. I think the way Greg put it: the friendship that we had is over, now let's begin a new, different kind of friendship. I don't know what that's going to look like, and it's not a bad thing, it just "is."

On Friday of that week, after a wedding reception of all things, on a whim I went to visit Matthew again. This time was more of a conversation, back and forth. I got to tell him I finished the database, and I was again encouraged to hear how positive his spirits remained: to paraphrase how he described it to me, "no one would ever choose to be in this situation, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to look at it as an adventure, and make the most of it." I know he will. We talked for half an hour until visiting hours ended.

When a person dies, oftentimes the survivors have regrets: "I should have spent more time with them." Matthew's not dead (and I have had to keep reminding myself of that, even before the sentencing happened), at the same time I feel like this situation is so similar, where someone might have regrets. I don't have any regrets, though. I was very deliberate about getting together with Matthew in the months leading up to sentencing, and so I don't have to look back and have all those "shoulda woulda couldas". Our friendship will be different, but my friend isn't gone forever.

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - June

This is post #5 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

June.

After living in my home for 6 and a half years, my parents and I finally signed the contract-for-deed, which means I'm "officially" buying the house from them now. The backstory if you're unfamiliar: I live in my grandparents' house; I moved in in 2006, after Grandma passed away and Grandpa moved to assisted living. My parents used their inheritance from my other Grandma's death (that same year) to buy the house from Grandpa, and now they are selling it to me. I am incredibly lucky, and I do not take it for granted.

One of the "joys of home ownership," as my parents call it, is home repairs! My dishwasher was making an awful grinding noise - my roommate Alec called it a "monster" - so I finally scheduled an appointment. All the labor and parts were free as part of CenterPoint's home Service Plus, but it took them 3 trips to A) diagnose the problem / order parts, B) come back, and determine not enough new parts were ordered, and then finally C) put the thing back together. It runs very quietly now. Ahh.

Friends Joe and Alee and Hannah and Richard (and more) and I spent several evenings outdoors, enjoying the Minneapolis Park&Rec Board's "Movies in the Park" - we saw Mighty Ducks, Hunger Games, Miracle, Wall-e, and Top Gun (though due to a noisy food truck right by where we were sitting, we truly only "saw" Top Gun, we did not hear it).

On June 28th, one of my best friends plead guilty to the crime he was accused of, and was sentenced to 9 years in prison (with good behavior he will serve 6). This is a story worthy of its own lengthy blog post, which I might some day write. The short version: because I was very intentional about spending time with Matthew, I leave the experience without the all-too-common regrets people have after suffering a loss: "I wish I would have spent more time, I wish I would have done this or that, I wish, I wish ..." because I did. I was there for him for the past year and a half, and, alongside other friends and family, I was there to support him in the court room. In my world, that is what friendship is supposed to look like. Matthew made a mistake that crossed both legal and moral lines, there are no two ways around that. But I refuse to be a fair-weather friend.

On June 30th, the last day of the month, I finished programming on the online casting database. My perpetual nightmare of working extremely long hours (all day at Cray, and then all evening on the database), literally making myself fall ill from working and not getting enough sleep, came to a rather anti-climactic close. Though there were still many tasks ahead (beta-testing, bug fixes, terms of service, announcements, and more), the largest part, the hardest part, was done. Words are incapable of expressing the tremendous relief I felt.

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - May

This is post #4 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

May.

For three weeks I took an hiatus from programming on the casting database.

Around this time my friends Joe, Alee, Hannah, Richard, and a few others, started frequenting Merlin's Rest, a pub very near my house. I'm not sure what this says about us, but by the time of this writing, the wait staff doesn't even card us anymore, because they all know us. Our frequent waitress Jess also takes great joy in picking out fun new drinks for me (she knows my standing order is "something pink, fruity, and alcoholic; the pink is optional"). Kinda cool to be a "regular."

Later in May I served food to the poor and homeless with my friend Darrell and his group of people he calls "Salt Shakers". This was my first experience serving in a food line and, while I don't want to belittle my problems as unimportant, the experience certainly gave me some perspective.

As a fun little programming side project, I was hired by Street Factory Media, a local advertising firm, to create a computer animation for some food trucks they were helping launch. I used the little-known Quartz Composer to create an animation, pulling data from a web API to display titles of upcoming music/sporting events for each of the three cities where the food trucks would be. It was fun... but also stressful - the end-client (not SFM - they were great) was not very cooperative when I asked for information, and I ended up having to figure out a lot of extra details that should not have been my responsibility. Like so often happens: live and learn.

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - April

This is post #3 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

April.

I started ComedySportz's level II improv class, with lots of the same faces from level I, as well as my good friend Allie - she'd already gone through Level III and was going to repeat it, but they didn't have enough students sign up, so she joined my level II class instead!

In a different friend group, I started hosting Star Wars movie nights for two friends who'd never ever seen the movies. I was unaware such people even existed. Now Hannah and Alee finally understand the references we make, like "It's a trap!" and "these are not the <fill in the blank> you're looking for."

My coworker Wendy (who trained me in at Cray a year ago) invited me along in her friend-group of musical-goers to see Aida at Minnetonka High School. Let me take a step back and say on record: standing ovations are given far too easily these days - it's rare to see a production that truly deserves one. But Minnetonka's Aida, wow. Just, wow. It took until intermission before I realized there was a live orchestra - the music was so flawless, I thought they were playing back a recording! The singers - high schoolers - had amazing voices, absolutely blew me away. Without question, they earned their standing applause.

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Part 1: A logistical summary - March

This is post #2 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

March.

Kicking off what quickly turned my conversations into a broken record, I began work on March 1 on an online extras casting database for the company I run, Samaritan Casting.

After years of suffering year-round allergies, and seeing dwindling results from prescription meds, I started allergy shots - once a week, shot in each arm. As of this writing (August) I've worked up to what they call a "maintenance" dose, so now only need to go for shots bi-weekly. (Update: as of the actual publishing date, I'm back to once a week, because my allergies this summer have been that miserable).

You might dread taxes, but mine were exciting! Between leaving full-time employment at Minnehaha to become a contractor at Cray, starting on COBRA, dealing with HSA reimbursements, and taking over a small business, my money was well-spent to let someone else deal with all my 2012 tax details. Conveniently, it happens that one of my movie-making friends' wife is a CPA; Cheryl and I met early in 2012, she gave me guidance throughout the year, and then when it came to tax time, she made the whole experience as painless as it possibly could be. If you ever need a tax person, ping me and I'll put you in touch with her.

Mid-month, I wrapped up taking the level I improv class at ComedySportz in Uptown. I have no ambition to be an on-stage performer there (they call them "actletes": a combination actor + athlete), the class was just for fun, for personal growth, and to push myself out of my comfort zone. Missions accomplished.

Also mid-month, I road-tripped south to Des Moines for AWAKEN friends Blair and Alica's wedding, and got to spend quality time with other AWAKEN folks there. Once again my heart was reminded how torn I am between three cities I could call "home" (Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Des Moines/Ames).

Where's Jeremy (2013) - Introduction

This is post #1 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

Almost all of 2013 has flown by with only a scant few blog writings from yours truly. Where has Jeremy been, you ask?

The short story is: working. And working. And working some more. As a result, I was extremely unhappy with my life. I'm writing this series of blog posts to help decompress. And also as a slap-in-the-face reminder to my future self, who might feel a little arrogant and once again think I can take on all the things.

The longer story has become a novella, and so I’ve broken it into a number of upcoming posts: (hyperlinks will be added as each post is published)

Part 1: A logistical summary

• March
• April
• May
• June
• July
  • Visiting jail, and coping
  • eHarmony
• August
• September
• October

Part 2: Cray

• "Can I stick my nose in your business?"
• "I’m a real boy!"

Part 3: Samaritan Casting

• Misconceptions
• The Database (or, why Jeremy hated his life for four months)
• The Database, continued
• Selling the company

Part 4: Emotional reflections, lessons learned, and "what's next?"

• Concluding remarks
• What I'm looking for

Re-instated as a blood donor!

3 years ago the Red Cross mistakenly tagged my donated blood as "inconclusive" for HepC, and they black-listed me from donating for life. Despite a letter from my doctor with clean test results, they refused to budge.

Every so often I called the Red Cross to ask (politely) if they'd gotten over themselves yet and would let me donate again. To my surprise, a few months ago the answer was "maybe" - they've finally created a donor-reinstatement program - so we scheduled an appointment to re-test my blood.

At the donor center, I was happy to find Beverly, my favorite bloodletter, still worked there; we got to catch up on the last three years while working through the paperwork and blood-sampling.

A couple weeks ago, the donor reinstatement lady who'd been helping me left me a voicemail: my results were clean, and I'd receive an official letter in the mail once their new computer system was up and running.

That letter arrived in this morning's mail, which means I’m officially re-instated! Heading over to www.redcrossblood.org/make-donation to schedule an appointment now. Maybe you'll join me?

eDiscord

This is post #8 in Where’s Jeremy (2013)

My friend Melanie and I made a pact that we would sign up for eHarmony on July 1st (after I had finished work on the online casting database I was developing [future blog post], and she had finished some of her own projects/soul-searching).

Signing up for eHarmony reminded me of my psych exams when I started pursuing Seminary last year: "on a scale of 1-8, how much does this word describe you?" and, "how important is this aspect in your relationship?" and the more classic, "how often do you drink/smoke/go to church/exercise/blah blah blah?"

Finally, at long last, after an hour of Q&A, I arrived on the final page. All right, let's do this! I clicked the giant "save my answers, show me my matches" button, and...

Excuse me?

Seriously? I just spent an entire hour filling out your questionnaire, and you won't even take my money?

Now, let's be clear: it's not like I limited my search parameters to "I'm only interested in blondes within a 5 block radius of my house who have green eyes and are exactly 5'7" tall" - I said I'd be open to meeting people in the United States, United Kingdom, Australia, and New Zealand (basically all the places with awesome accents). You're telling me that in FOUR ENTIRE countries you can't find a single person [pun intended] you think I could match with?

I wrote customer support to ask what red flags they'd spotted, and they replied with a completely non-helpful, generic answer. Even though I should have recognized it as a losing battle, I replied anyway. As I explained to them: I wanted to understand if they were rejecting me because of something transient (for example, my particular mood or emotions when I happened to fill out the profile), or something more core/substantive to who I am (for example, my faith, career, etc).

The reason this matters, is because I probably wasn't in the best mood that day, and therefore [I'm educated-guessing here] may have indicated some level of depression in my answers. Not only had I been working my butt off for the last four months on the casting database project, but also just a few days earlier one of my best friends was sentenced to nine years in prison. So, I will concede: my emotional state was dubious at best.

With that said, I'm also suspicious they thought I was goofing off, because at one point in my exam they accused me of answering questions too quickly and not taking it seriously. Hey, don't punish me because I'm a fast screen reader and mouse-clicker, okay?

Customer support replied with another generic, non-helpful "blah blah blah have a nice life." Whatever. I can laugh about it now.

In the mean time, I took eHarmony's rejection as an opportunity for self-examination. Let's say, for argument's sake, that they did spot something in my psyche that I should be addressing. With this in mind, I came to one realization, and one actionable task.

My realization was that the women I've typically been attracted to, seem themselves to be attracted to men who are more spiritually-conscious than I am. What do I mean by that. I mean, I see myself as having a lot of spiritual growing to do, to become closer with Jesus, to be more in tune with listening to the Holy Spirit's Call on my life, and not just my life in the grand sense, but in each tiny moment also. And let's also be clear: I'm not wanting to change myself for the sake of becoming what someone else wants me to be. I want to pursue this growth in myself for the sake of who I want me to be. Conveniently, my impression is this growth may come with the side-effect of making me more into the type of person that the people I'm attracted to, are attracted to in return. And even if it doesn't, I've still grown more in my relationship with God.

My actionable task, only somewhat related to the above, was to start going to therapy. I don't have depression, I'm not an alcoholic, I don't have any major red flags that would call for therapy, so why would I want to do this, you ask? The simplest answer is: I go to my doctor regularly for physical checkups, I attend church regularly and have friends who help give me spiritual checkups, so pursuing mental checkups just makes sense. I've also heard very positive feedback from more than one friend about their therapy experiences - specifically, the way their therapists challenged them, or asked just the right questions to help lead their way of thinking about a problem. I knew I could benefit from that. So as long as the opportunity was there, I figured "why not?" I called up a delightful therapist named Beverly, recommended to me by one of my friends, and I've been visiting her since July.

Where does that leave me with eHarmony? At some point I think I will give it another go (when I'm for-sure in a good mood). I'll also adjust my answers toward what a normal, level-headed-Jeremy would say, and try to remove myself from whatever emotions I might be feeling right at that particular moment. I'll let you know how it goes. (or, hey, maybe I'll meet someone before then! Who knows?)