I Am Cougar, Hear Me Roar

I’ve been on Match.com for exactly one week.

It’s early yet, but I’m beginning to think that it might be the perfect vehicle for someone like me.  It’s either that or I’m just fascinated by the whole social psychology aspect.  Maybe both.  I hardly ever get approached out in the every day world, so online dating is proving to be a good way to be seen, yet remain somewhat anonymous.  Shopping for men from the comfort of my home is what I love about the Internet.

Match forces you to look at people.  That’s to my advantage.  I wouldn’t call myself “first glance” pretty.  If you look real hard, I’m decent-looking from certain angles and when the wind is coming in from the SW at 8 mph.  I’m like one of those 3D graphic prints that you have to stare at until the other, secret picture appears.  Most people can’t see it right away; some people never see it.  Which is fine, because my secret picture isn’t for everyone.  On the Match site, I included a photo of myself right before I ran a 5K.  No makeup.  Hey, it’s how I look!  Like it or leave it.  Just stop staring at it – it isn’t going to get any better.  And I tried to convey my personality into my profile, not just a list of things I like and what I’m looking for.  I’ve read some guys’ profiles and they are so generic that I don’t get any sense of who they are.  They love food and walking on the beach?  Me, too!!  I’ve finally found my soulmate!!  All I can say is, if a guy contacts me after looking at my photos and profile, I’m assuming he has a sense of what he’s getting into.

I’ve been contacted by some guys, and a few of them have commented on my appearance.  I suppose it’s flattering, but for some reason I feel like it’s a red flag.  Maybe I’m just not the type to be won over by compliments, especially if I’ve never even met you.  One of my friends told me that she doesn’t respond to any kind of contact unless she’s interested.  Apparently, even a rejection email can open the door to unwanted attention.  I decided that I would only ignore someone if I found them especially creepy, but I could change my mind.  It’s only been a week – I could change my mind about this whole thing tomorrow.

I might go on my first Match date this week.  He’s young, but at least he’s over 40.  I’m a little hesitant because I’m tiptoeing into Cougar territory; he’s several years younger than the age range I had posted, but then the last few guys that have contacted me have been around the same age (including Wine Guy).  I’m open to dating someone older than me, but I don’t think I ever have.  Maybe this is my problem?  Whatever the case –  AAAAAAAA!!!!!!  My eardrums just burst.  Women everywhere screamed at me to shut up and go for it.  Well, there it is.  If there’s one thing I can’t do, that’s let womankind down.  Time to get to work.

Single Gal with Smallpox Seeks Non-Judgmental Single Guy

Did you miss me?

I knew it.  You didn’t even know I was missing, did you.  That is just the reaction my cat would give me when I’d come back from a trip:  “You were gone?”  And then she’d go back to licking herself.

So where was I?

IMG_0841

Just another day at the office

Just another day at the office

The beautiful island of Oahu.  I had a great time visiting friends and eating multiple meals and desserts all throughout the day, every day.  Before I left for the trip, I was feeling vain and didn’t want to wear shorts, but being in Hawaii made me realize that a lot of the native and local women are comfortable with their bodies.  They just owned what they had.  It’s simply too uncomfortable to wear pants all of the time.  I mean, I brought a pair of jeans.  What was I thinking!?  And look ovah dere, yah?  My legs look like the others’!  Sure, there were skinny-legged women there, but I also saw my gene pool represented in the short, strong (well, I’m working towards strong) category.  So I put my shorts on and went native.  Well, until a few days later when I broke out in a hideous heat rash all over my feet, legs and arms.  I eventually covered myself up – I didn’t want to scare people into thinking I had a nasty case of smallpox.

So there I was in Paradise, minding my own heat rash, when I get a text.  From Wine Guy.  If you recall – which I barely do – I last left him a voicemail and got no response.  But WG moves sllllloooowwww…two and a half weeks later slow:  Hi, are you interested in going out to a movie or coffee?  Unless I’m missing something, is this a taste of what dating is like?  You get to know a person by not contacting them or responding to them every few weeks or so?  Call me a sucker, because you will, but I texted him back, told him I was traveling at the moment and asked if he wanted to get together at the end of the month.  Again, no response.  Well, it’s only been ten days, so I expect to hear from him in another week or two or three.

My behavior is indicative of someone who doesn’t have very many choices.  That’s why, despite my better judgment, I’m thinking about online dating.  A few weeks ago, when I was doing my research, I noticed that I could actually look at guys’ profiles.  I like knowing things, so I thought it was super handy to find out if a guy smoked or wanted kids or was crazy athletic.  And because I’m a non-smoking, non-childbearing, half-activewoman/half-slug, information like this is really important.  I didn’t anticipate that the filtering process could be so helpful.  The idea still scares me, but I’m getting closer to trying it out for a few months.

Don’t attempt to figure out who I am.  I won’t give out anymore clues.  You already know too much about me – after all, you’ve seen my right hand and both feet, and I’ve admitted to my Asian heritage and short, stout-leg nature.  You won’t catch me using these profile names:  sugahmama10, dontkrossmi, and ladeeyakuza.  I checked – they’re already taken.  All the good ones are.

The Profiler

My friend – I’ll call her Patricia – recently purchased a trial period for Match.com. If you’re reading this P, please don’t get mad. I don’t think this will out you in any way. I’m very discreet. Haha, no I’m not. Anyways, I thought I would try and come up with a profile she could use because she said writing one for herself would be difficult. I know why: she’s too humble about herself. Maybe I’m not discreet, but I still want to keep her as a friend, so I won’t post Patricia’s Pulitzer prize-winning profile. Did you know she sells seashells down by the seashore? Many people don’t know that about her.

I’m incredibly frightened of online dating. Despite the fact that I blog about my personal life, I still like my privacy. I’ve never posted a photo of myself and most likely never will unless it’s of my right shoulder or my hand holding a fork, so the odds of putting my face on a dating site are very low. Especially since I live in a small community. But before closing the door on the whole thing, I wanted to do some research first.

I’m positive that all of this has been criticized before about dating sites, but since it was my first time looking through all the photos and profile names, I’m compelled to put in my two cents: I really don’t think it’s a good idea to use “lonely”, “angry”, “sad”, and “whoseurdaddy” as part of your profile name, unless, of course, those words are like magic to your ears. But then I saw this: sypholus. I hope it doesn’t refer to what it sounds like. I’m concerned. Maybe he should see a doctor?

I saw men in hoodies, sunglasses, baseball caps, far far away, posing shirtless…sometimes in different combinations. You – the one in the black watch cap and shades, could you step a few 100 feet closer to the camera? How can I tell if you have an extra arm growing out of your side? That’s a plus for me, so if you have one, I want to get a good look at it. I only searched for men over 40. I can’t imagine what the younger profiles are like. Well, I’m guessing the same, just more of them, right? There certainly were some good looking guys, and it helped that some of them used handsome as part of their profile name – I never would have known  if they hadn’t thoughtfully alerted me. But good looks don’t equal good character. My ex has a lot of handsome friends, and that focus group taught me not to get sucked in on good looks alone.

And (sort of) speaking of my ex, his mom reeeealllly wants me to broaden my choices through online dating. She even said she’d take my profile picture. Maybe I can use this one?

Pie

Profile: I like pie. I’m right-handed.

Is it my hand that’s tiny? Or is it a huge piece of pie? Did I eat the whole thing?

Some mysteries are better left unsolved.

**I just heard that Martha Stewart signed up for Match.com. Well, there you go. All my prospective three-armed men will now be flocking to her. Dammit, Martha! Must you be the center of attention of the whole online dating world, too??

The Dating Jitterbug: The Final Lesson?

After almost a week of not hearing from WG after our coffee date, I decided to take the lead (I’m having deja vu) and made one more good faith effort.  So I called him and left a message saying that I was going to the farmer’s market on Sunday and would he be interested in going?  He called back the next day.  This was his message:

“…yes, Sunday would be pretty good, I think.  I’m not sure…someone’s moving into the house for a few days and they’re coming on Sunday, but I’m not sure when.  Plus, I’m working on Sunday, but a little later.  And I’m transporting a friend to and from [more talking, details not important] and all of that happens on Saturday night, which probably won’t be an obstacle.  To make a long story short, Sunday might be tight for me.  If I can do it, I would love to do it.  And if not, [mumbling – sounds like: ‘I can shoot your way some time.’].  Anyways, I’ll call you real soon and we can discuss it further…thank you…bye.”

Hm.  Nervous rambling?  Perhaps.  Not that into me, but not quite sure how to tell me?  Could be.  I thought I asked a simple question, yet his answer turned into a big corn maze – I tried to follow him, but eventually, got lost.  A friend of mine said, “Seems like he wanted to see you, but didn’t know how to do that AND keep all of his other obligations.  I think he still wants to go out with you.”  Girlfriends are troublingly good at coming up with complex explanations for male behavior.

After consulting with my friend, I called him back.  This action, by the way, was not endorsed by my friend.  She told me not to call him, but I went rogue.  I left a message suggesting we go out another time when his schedule was more free, and that it would be fun to go out before I went out of town in a few weeks.

There’s attraction – that spark that sets off the whole thing – and then the rest is up to you to figure out.  And I’m figuring it out, despite the confusion.  I just didn’t think I would meet a guy who is, quite possibly, more scared of dating than I am.  But I don’t want to speculate on what he means, is thinking, or what he’s going through.  That would be a fruitless exercise in guessing what his truth might be.  Unless he tells me, I’ll never really know.  I left that message because I wanted to give him my truth.  What he does with it is up to him.

Whatever happens, it’s all a learning experience.  At least dating isn’t such a foreign concept now.  Not that it’s simple, but at least I can see the possibilities…

The Dating Jitterbug: Lesson One

After a few days of silence from WG (Wine Guy), I took the lead last week and followed up on our previous agreement to meet for coffee.  I left him a message one morning, asking when he might be free, but didn’t get any response from him that day.  After telling myself not to over think the situation, I realized that it might be a good idea to try and date different guys so that my neuroses would spread out a little more evenly rather than concentrate its full power on one person.

But how to find more dates without going the online dating route?  I don’t exactly appeal to the masses.  How would I describe myself?  I’m like Tina Fey’s Asian cousin – not exactly Tina in all her brilliance, but it’s as if we share some of the same genes.  Mm, that made more sense in my head.  Anyways, I do wear smart glasses like she does, so it means I’m pretty much just like her.  How about this:  I’m an ice cream flavor that appeals to very specific, sometimes odd people.  A scoop of vanilla with basil and chicken liver, anyone?  Hello?  And as I’ve mentioned before, every few years a guy comes along and thinks that flavor combination is intriguing.  When that happens, it’s in my best interest to take a critical look at his tastebuds.

Recently, a friend tried to jog my memory about the time we took a screenwriting class together when I was 19 years old:  “Remember that older guy in the class who was interested in you?  You said he wanted to build a home under the ground and that he only had the best of intentions for you.  You didn’t want to go back to the class after that.  Remember?”  I thought it was a little cruel of her to try and make me remember such a horrifying moment in my past.  Luckily, my memory was gifted enough to have blocked the whole thing and now I can use it as part of my ice cream analogy.

While I was in deep contemplation over all of these issues, WG called me the following day and left a message telling me which days he was free.  I made my friend listen to it.  She said, “He sounds nervous.”  So I gave her his name and number just in case he went mental on me and decided that my liver would taste pretty good, too.

No one eats my liver and gets away with it.