The carbon footprint of active dating is insurmountable. Between roses shipped in from Colombia and an engine left idle during goodnight smooches (I'm not going to even address petroleum-based products), looking for your match is rarely a win-win for the planet.

Thanks to technology, however, options are arising to connect with other green-conscious creatures of love. Leigh Stringer, vice president of eco-minded international architecture firm, HOK, has published a substantial volume on greening the workplace, but when she's not designing LEED-certified buildings or signing books, she's moonlighting as a green matchmaker.

Her website, ActForLove.com, which she operates with her husband (whom she met online), is designed to align the stars between activists with passion for the planet. Countless other websites of the same ilk are out there, waiting to be bookmarked by the lovelorn tree-hugger: GreenRomance.com, EcoDater.com and PlanetEarthSingles.com are just the tip of this iceberg that shows no signs of melting.

The most obvious carbon culprit for the Houstonian is the greenhouse gas output due to constant car commuting. So when I first got wind of NuRide.com, I was fairly enthralled. It's a service that connects citizens based on home to work routes, facilitating carpooling, and in my mind, setups with the Smart Car set.

After breezily filling out the profile and location details, a list of more than 100 green soulmates appeared. Since NuRide profiles do not include photos, I messaged a few right away, knowing that they'd fall for me as soon as they pulled up to the front step of the townhouse.

Days passed — no response. The clock was ticking, so I decided to simply message everyone in my neighborhood (I even removed the gender and age filter). I only got a small trickle of negative responses:

"Sorry, I take Metro now."

"I bike to work, but maybe I'll call if it's rainy."

"I actually met somebody, and we've moved to Paris."

Rejection can be a difficult pill to swallow. Later that night, I found myself drowning my sorrows at Poison Girl, when I ran into a face from the past. Instead of the typical "Good to see you" or "You still have my boxer briefs," he introduced himself with, "Hey, why don't I ever see you on Grindr?"

He clued me in to an apparently life-changing iPhone application, that once installed, lists matches in descending order based on proximity in feet from one's unit. Thanks to Apple and Grindr's developers, notes Details magazine, a tangible gaydar can now be downloaded for free. A recent search brought up a range of anonymous neighbors, as well as recognizable cashiers from Whole Foods, several art gallery administrators and the director of a prominent local museum.

Grindr markets itself as a "dating app," but it's efficiency lends itself pejorative connotations. Of course, all I could think about was how much energy I could save by exclusively dating within a one mile radius — not a far-fetched idea considering that Grindr lists scores of potential matches in SoMo, all of whom I'm sure have their own slew of Mother Earth issues.

Within a few days, I found myself walking to a coffee date, reveling in my greener dating lifestyle. I got talking to my date (let's call him G, as in "green"), sipping my coffee out of a post-consumer recycled cup, and bursting with joy thinking about my rapidly diminishing carbon footprint.

Coffee turned into a walk through the neighborhood (he only lives a street away, across from Bell Park), which turned into a date at neighborhood pub Ernie's later that week. Without having to worry about car washes or parking, I was able to actually focus on getting to our meet-ups on time.

Yet the odds of finding a steady relationship on an iPhone app are dubious. Last Sunday morning, I arose out of bed, overhearing G making a racket in the kitchen. I smiled, thinking of a refined breakfast waiting for me. Walking into the kitchen, I heard cacophonous jazz playing as G was chopping up ingredients for guacamole and — the drawing line — wearing nothing but a pair of UGGs.

The sight of it all was too much (UGGs are imported all the way from Australia), and so I made a move for the door. Some may call it hasty to give up on somebody just after one awkward moment, but I knew that for the sake of my rep in the 'hood, I had to get out sooner rather than later. As he leaned in for a goodbye kiss, I noticed a chunk of avocado on his cheek.

"That is so not what I meant by 'green dating," I mumbled to myself as I closed the door behind me, wiping off the green mush.

So do green and the dating game not go hand in hand? Ever the romantic, I still think it's possible.

GreenSingles, NuRide, Grindr — they may work wonders for some people — but perhaps I got ahead of myself by directly scouring the virtual realm. After all, this city has a mounting number of lush parks, community gardens and farmers markets, all bustling with potential tree-hugging romances.