Seeking funding for a social experiment. Come on--help a Vixen out!

The Tri-State Dating System.

Earlier this year, sole proprietor John Holt sent me some nasty emails after I wrote to him communicating that his web site included a substantial number of typos and substantive grammatical errors.  In one, he stated that he would never let me near any of the men for whom he works as matchmaker.  Of course, he doesn't know who I am.

Challenge accepted!

I would like to investigate this match-making system and decide for myself.  The only problem is that I simply don't have the funding to avail myself of Mr. Holt's services.  If anyone would like to contribute (even a dollar counts), I will establish a fund for the purpose of trying out the Tri-State Dating Service and, after I've completed the experiment, chronicle my experiences here.

If you would like to donate, please comment here with a way to contact you.  I moderate my comments, so if you don't want your email out in public, simply let me know and I'll write directly to you without posting your comment. 

If, within three months, I cannot raise the necessary funds for this experiment, I will refund any donations in full.

No one wants to eat an anus.

I lived in Boston from 1997 until 2003.  On Charles Street, a few blocks from my college dorm that straddled Boston's Back Bay and Beacon Hill communities, was a small market called Deluca's.  Deluca's had it all: a basement wine cellar, specialty items (like mango juice), sushi made on-site, and--of course--the deli section.  Like most smaller markets, the deli featured premium meats as well as homemade salads, soups and stews.

For four years, I would giggle whenever I passed the deli section and noticed the sign for Deluca's homemade "Black Anus Beef Stew."  For four years, the sign never changed.  And for four years, I never saw anyone buy that homemade anus beef stew.

Finally, a month before I graduated from college in 2001, I finally pointed out the spelling mistake to a guy behind the deli counter.  He happened to be the owner's son.

"Man!" he exclaimed.  "My dad has been wondering for years why NO ONE ever bought that stew."

Join The Saucy Vixen For Roller Derby!

That's right, folks. The Saucy Vixen has finally--after years of trepidation and and procrastination--joined a roller derby league. I'm not competing because, well, I haven't been on stakes in over twenty years and really need to learn how to stop before I learn how to jump (that stupid old "learn to walk before you run" adage seems true when it comes to learning to stop before you jump or skate into people).

There are, however, two brand new teams competing with Hartford Area Roller Derby (H.A.R.D.) this season. Below, please find the schedule so you can come join me in watching some scantily clad bad-ass women tearing up the track.

PS. If any of the H.A.R.D. folks end up finding this post via an Internet search, please know that I write anonymously for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is professional.

Life goes on.

An update of sorts.

A bit over a year ago, the Former Mr. Vixen experienced his all-out relapse. He had been secretly stealing my prescription medication (it can get you high if you take a lot) since August 2010. In January, he decided that after five years of sobriety (quasi-sobriety because of the medication-stealing) he was going to drink a glass of wine to ring in the New Year. I was uncomfortable about it, and told him that I didn't approve. At the same time I recognized that I cannot control other people's actions. He promised it would be just one glass. He wouldn't even try another for at least three months.

The next day I found a nip of vodka (that I'd already had half of) in his desk drawer while I was looking for Scotch tape. He told me he'd only wanted to taste it. I pointed out that he had hidden it. "But it was such a small amount," he said. That, of course, wasn't the point. The drinking and hiding of the bottle was the point.

I came home from work one VERY snowy night in February 2011 and got stuck in my driveway. When I went into the house to ask him for help, I saw a frying pan of burnt cabbage on my gas range, the gas still on. A cooking utensil was on his floor, along with his glasses. When I finally roused him from bed, he was disoriented to time and place. He flew into a rage. I went outside with my dogs and called 911. He ended up in detox and residential placement for about five days.

During my search of the house during that time, I found he had consumed the following: about 60 tabs of Xanax, half a bottle of Bacardi, half a bottle of wine, 11 beers, and one bottle of cough syrup. I packed his clothing into bags. He begged for another chance, and I gave it to him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. In April, a repeat of the February relapse happened again. I kicked him out for good, gave him half the savings, and eventually filed for divorce.

In the summer, I started dating again. I learned a few things: Most men in their thirties and forties want children if they've not already had them. I don't. In order to date these days, you need to be willing to text people rather than talk to them. I find this ridiculous. Many men expect women to act a certain way, and when you don't act that way (e.g., play passive aggressive mind games), they think you're hiding something. A friend bought me a eHarmony membership as a Divorce Gift. The few people I went on dates with had lied by omission(like the gentleman who was twice divorced over the course of seven years and had two children he neglected to mention).

In August, a close friend of mind posted an online dating profile on Plenty of Fish and urged me to do the same. I lasted about a week on that site. (Tip to single gentleman: It takes more than "You're beautiful" or "I'd love to fuck you" to get a woman interested in you).

In December, another friend bought me a membership to Match. (My friends, for whatever reason, seem to really want me NOT to be single. I am perfectly happy being a single 30-something woman; apparently no one believed me when I explained this.) I accidentally set my birth year incorrectly so that it listed me as 92 instead of 32 years old. I didn't notice. Suffice to say, they men who did contact me were in their seventies and eighties, and I was a bit creeped out. I would have started to develop a complex if I'd even cared. But when I finally figured it out, I changed my age.

And that's when I got a message from a gentleman that started off with, "I'm probably too old for you, but..." Boredom will do strange things to people. It will make people write back out of nothing more than morbid curiosity.

We corresponded and I agreed to meet him at a local pub for a drink. I mean, after all the horrible dates I'd been on, what was another? We've been together since.

Even though I wished to remain single, to be accountable to no one but myself, to be free to eat ice cream and chocolate for dinner at will, I find myself paired with someone, a year after my nearly-three-year marriage ended.

It appears that no matter what your plans, life just... goes on. And we're just along for the ride.

John Holt and Tri-State Dating: An Update.

You may remember back in October when I posted about one Mr. John Holt, and the matchmaking service he offers in the tri-state area (which I assume to be Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island).

I posted some e-mails he had sent to me in which he questioned my sanity and integrity because I had deigned to tell him that his web copy was difficult to read and grammatically improper. (The real truth is I thought I was being nice: I considered his copy to be functionally illiterate.)

It took him about three weeks to discover my postings. And that's when the threats started.

I have received no less than three (and likely more) e-mails from him claiming that I defamed him. Some of the correspondence demanded that I take down my posts. Other e-mails demanded that I turn myself in or make myself known to him so that he could serve process upon me. At least two messages from him referenced an "ongoing investigation" he was conducting to determine my "activities."

Not once did Mr. Holt actually ask me to take down the posts I'd written in which I'd provided my opinion of his unprofessionalism. Never did he say, "Look, I'm sorry I overreacted. Would you mind taking down those posts about my business?"

The irony is that I would have. A simple rational response or request from Mr. Holt was all that would have been necessary for me to take down my posts--my opinions--of him. But instead of acting like a reasonable person, Mr. Holt chose to lash out and threaten me with legal action.

And so I am left to wonder how the investigation into my "activities" in proceeding.

Euphemism.

Today.

In which I take part in an online chat with a 47-year-old I've not met. He opens with a story of how he's been invited to have sex with a woman and her husband.

An excerpt:

ME: I don't judge people who swing. But sex with near-strangers is NOT my thing.

HIM: I've not experienced that....but would imbibe

ME: "imbibe" means "to drink"

HIM: I know......:)

ME: uh huh

HIM: drink from the secret, forbidden elixir in this case

ME: are you always so prosaic?

ME: because it's not secret, forbidden elixir.

ME: it's just fucking some guy's wife.

HIM: haven't thought of that.....perhaps....

I blocked him; he no longer has the ability to write or chat with me.

A brief First Amendment lesson.

It has come to my attention that folks out there may be confused about our rights under the First Amendement, as well as what the definition of "defamation" is.

Since I am an attorney (and have studied First Amendment jurisprudence at length), I shall give you all this Brief Lesson in Three Paragraphs:

1. The Black Letter law is clear. Defamation is defined as "an intentional false communication that harms a person's reputation."

2. A statement of opinion is not defamatory. See Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U.S. 232 (1974). ("Under the First Amendment there is no such thing as a false idea. However pernicious an opinion may seem, we depend for its correction not on the conscience of judges and juries by on the competition of other ideas.")

3. Though private citizens (rather than public figures or limited public figures) need not prove "actual malice" in order to succeed on a claim of defamation, the truth (i.e., that which was published if factually true) is an absolute defense against defamation. Because defamation, by definition, is limited to false statements, true statements (written or oral) are protected by the First Amendment.

Untitled.

September 24, 2005--1.40 p.m.

I realized something last night. It never stops. Love. Once you love someone, you don't fall out of love. It's always there and it's a part of you. So instead of trying to desperately fall out of love and stop caring, it's far simpler just to let that love go. Release it rather than fight against it. And remember how good it felt when it was a part of you and not just something that existed in a buried cavern inside yourself. Those people that I have loved... That love isn't gone. It's just faded, and I remember it as I'd remember a trip to the circus when I was five years old. A memory, dull, washed out, yet still alive.

I wrote that over six years ago in my journal. In retrospect, I am not sure who I was writing about. I suppose the most likely explanation would be that I was writing about Mike. Best Friend Mike, who has appeared in my ramblings since 2005. In fact, he appeared in my very first blog entry, Writing Without a Purpose. I wrote about him after our breakup-of-sorts. Apparently, I even wrote about this very journal passage back in 2006.

Mike has been my only love. I don't mean this in a love-is-unicorns-shitting-rainbows sort of way. There are no fairy tale endings. In real life, the prince rarely saves the damsel in distress and teen love grows into 40-something resentment. Life is strange and unpredictable and love follows life's path. Mark Twain put it best when he said, "Why shouldn't truth be stranger than fiction? Fiction, after all, has to make sense."

Nothing about my relationship with Mike ever made sense. Since our breakup six-plus years ago, I've gotten married, been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, been medicated, underwent therapy, realized the truth about addiction, kicked out my husband and filed for divorce. For the first time in my life, I am happy. I am content with my life and take solace in the day-to-day monotony as well as the little adventures that happen to everyone.

Mike and I spent this past Saturday together. It was the first time we've seen each other (or even really talked) in three years. It's the first time we've connected since I got married. The talk, the humor, the level of connection was not the same as it used to be.

It was stronger.

He is happy, too, no longer emotionally sapped from a brutal 14-year-marriage and terrible, wicked divorce from the first girl with whom he ever had sex. Like me, he is content with his life. He spends his evenings making art or pondering science and has his own little adventures. In 2005, we spent about a year together, unhappy as individuals and afraid to let ourselves be vulnerable, preferring to be numb, feeling better about it because each of us, in our misery, had company.

We are both happy now and therefore more at ease with ourselves and each other. The took a leap back into the friendship we'd had, but without the negative energy and the need to fight and the need to over analyze ever word we said to each other. We let ourselves be ourselves and enjoyed our time together.

He has tough work hours, though we have promised to see more of each other. We spoke on the phone last night for hours, like we used to, not realizing we'd talked for so long until both realizing it was past time to go to bed.

For the first time ever in our relationship (and perhaps in my life), I have let go of my fatalism. I am not concerned that things won't end well. I'm not looking to define our relationship with any specific labels or agenda. I am simply looking forward to seeing where this ride will take us.

My wish for everyone is a wonderful ride, wherever it leads.

My opinion of Tri-State Dating Service, owned by John Holt.

The following post contains both opinion and fact: My opinion is based upon an e-mail exchange with John Holt, operator of Tri-State Dating Services. The e-mail exchange occurred on Wednesday, October 26, 2011. The e-mails have been incorporated in both this post and the post on this blog titled "Tri-State Dating Service: Spelling always counts."

The opinions expressed below are my own. The correspondence posted that was received by Mr. Holt has not been altered. The only thing I have removed from the correspondence is my first name (I have replaced my name with "SV" where pertinent).

At first, I was amused by what he perceived as an attack by me upon his website. What I had done was offer straight-up constructive criticism. I suppose I should have included more emoticons in my comment regarding his typos and lack of professional presentation on his website. (I have included links to his site on both this post and the post from earlier today so that anyone who reads this may decide for him or herself whether I have been fair in my assessment; reasonable people are absolutely entitled to disagree and I take no offense either way.)

Now I am amazed at the amazingly unprofessional correspondence I have received from this entrepreneur. I am bewildered and awe-struck that someone in the service industry would respond as Mr. Holt has responded to me in his fourth email of the day:

First of all, who in the world do you think you are? You attack my website and then become the defining person to tell me I am unprofessional. I guess my unprofessionalism has gotten me to my 20th year in business. What do you do for a living?

Do you want a seminar on chemistry? Why do you think I have been on the radio broadcasting my dating and relationship show since 2007. So you wear a suit to court, I wear a suit to business appointments, so what. The best way to describe you is symbolisim over substance. The judge follows the law. Do you seriously think a judge is going your clients way by the way your dressed. Bernie Madoff put on a suit every day. He is in prison. As far as presentation is concerned look me up in rhode island monthly magazine, click the link on my media page of my website. There have been favorable articles written about me. My presentation is so good that I get $500.00 per speaking appearance.

It was an attack by an angry woman not constructive criticism. Constructive criticism is delivered in a nice way , for instance , if you said, there are mistakes on your website you should correct and here they are then that would be constructive. Instead you give me a written toungue lashing about my unprofessionalism, are you kidding me?

You swing on the swings, now I am amused by you. I wouldn't let you near a man in my service if you paid me all the money in the world. You obviously have no idea. Go back to counseling because you have issues. I am very secure in myself to know you belong with no man.

John

Though I have since read the entire email, I did not read past "who in the world do you think you are" before I shot back this response:

John,

I didn't read past the first sentence.

Good luck to you,
SV

Within five minutes, I already had this response from him:

Yes you did, I can see the issues with you. I hope counseling helps. I have many members who are great counselors if you need a better one let me know, because the one your seeing is a failure.

I am not writing back because there is no purpose in doing so.

I am, however, posting this here. Not because I'm an angry woman (as Mr. Holt alluded to), but because I truly cannot believe that ANY professional in the world would treat a prospective client in this manner, regardless of what comment that prospective client/stranger made about his website.

Tri-State Dating Service: Spelling always counts.

[Ed. Note: Upon writing the first draft of this post, I could not recall exactly how I had come to see the url for John Holt's Tri-State Dating Service. Upon further reflection, I have come to realize that it was not, in fact, a pop-up ad. Rather, I found the url on a regular (non-pop-up) ad.]

While surfing the 'net, I came across an ad for a dating "matchmaker" from the Tri-State Dating Service. I had no intent of using the service, but I used a white lie in my correspondence to make my point.

My comment in the "comment" section of the website:

I was thinking about using your service. However, when I read the "Realistic Matchmaking" page I found a lot of simple typos, misused or wrong words, and grammatical errors. These simple errors have led me to decide not to try your service. I strongly believe that how an individual or company presents himself/herself/itself is extremely important. In written media, a company must be aware of the first impressions it makes.

I'm sure you would advise your clients to maintain proper hygiene if they want to meet Mr. or Ms. Right. It's about advertising. The same is true of professional promotional and marketing tools. If I see that a company does not take the time to proofread what it puts out there in public, I do not trust that it will be thorough or accurate in providing services, either. In dating, looks matter. In marketing and written media, spelling still counts.

His THREE responses:

#1

Good morning to the grammar police, Please accept my apologies for whatever errors you found on my web site, even though I never got below a B in college english courses I am not perfect. I am not a copy writer. My question to you is this. Would you rather have an english teacher match you with the right person or a matchmaker with 20 years of experience. I have had 3 copywriters go over my websitew and even they can't always find errors. Each page has gone through grammar and spellcheck.

Here is how I advise my clients. I tell them to stay away from anyone who lives in a fairytale world where they are looking for someone called Ms. or Mr. right there is no such human being. I further advise all people with anal retention issues to lighten up.

Furthermore looks have nothing to do with relationships so I would say your misguided. If you simply told me that I would tell you that you should not join my service as your to shallow a human being. If you simply wish to point out what mistakes you saw then please list them and send them to me and I will correct them.

Finally please ask yourself why you are still single. My impression is that someone who thinks it's all about how you look instead of delivering real results is a fool. I deliver results with realistic people. Advertising in many ways is a trap for small business and much of what has been said in advertising is false. You probably tried E harmony and found out about false advertising.

I wish you well and suggest you seek counseling for anal retention.

John

#2

More advice from the matchmaker, Anyone who has a e mail address saucie.vixen can't be serious about finding anyone decent. This e mail address suggests other than virtuous behavior.

John

#3

Hi again, I just called a colleague in the business and we had another laugh about the grammar police. I was wondering, does content count for anything? Does substance matter? Good luck to you.

My response:

John,

That was an amazingly unprofessional e-mail. It will not help you garner clients.

Looks are obviously not ALL that matters, but you seriously can't tell me that chemistry and sexual compatibility is NOT important in an romantic/intimate relationship. I'm not shallow: I'm realistic.

I've never tried eHarmony. I just happen to be a former copy editor with a background in advertising and marketing. Professionals should write professionally if they wish to be taken seriously. I'm a public defender, yet I still wear a suit to court because how I look affects how the judge perceives me AND my client. Presentation matters, and it is unrealistic to think otherwise.

When it comes to professionalism and appearances and making clients comfortable with one's professional capability, yes, I am anal retentive. It's important to show you pay attention to details. That said, my most favorite activity is finger-painting and swinging on swings. If you find that anal retentive, I take no issue with it. I don't care what you think of me. You're a stranger who got overly-defensive about constructive criticism. An appropriate response may have been to vent to your colleagues, roll your eyes, and then send a quick note saying, "I received your email. Thanks for pointing it out."

The fact that you got so riled up about a simple message from a stranger demonstrates that you are somewhat insecure. You know how I know this? Because I've spent time in counseling and have learned how to be confident and not to care what strangers I've not met think of me.

Of course content matters, but no one will reach the content if they're distracted by poor communication. This is true in all spheres of life.

The email address is connected to a blog I keep. I used it because it does not contain my last name. Your assumptions based upon it are that: assumptions. If you think I'm less than virtuous, you are entitled to your opinion. Suffice to say, I didn't think you'd want to receive an email from my other email address: unicornspoorainbows97@gmail.com (which appears as "Unicorns Poo Rainbows" in someone's inbox.

I love my life, whether single or coupled. I enjoy what I do, enjoy my time off, and surround myself with friends and activities I enjoy. I wish you a life with as much happiness as I have.

Regards,

SV