Wednesday, October 24, 2007


How midlife dating differs:

After a year of being single again, I caved and signed on to an online matchmaking service. I thought the site might work for me because it appears to be for eharmony rejects, and that's a category that fits me like a glove. The five picks that they sent me through that site were really frightening. They either want to read poetry to me or have stomachs so big they haven't seen their toes in years.

I like the new one that I found because you have to be RICH to be a member. Right now, I'm far from rich, but they took me on as part of what they call their "resource database." I think that means that I'm deserving in principle if not pocketbook, so I paid a nominal fee to be one of the hoes in their stable. The rich men, at a 5-figure fee, will walk through the 'stable,' and pick out a thoroughbred...which would be me! The catch is that I don't get to pick them. That's fine too, because I'm way too spooked by this whole thing to click "choose." I figure I'll have better luck if the man decides that my high standards are not too scary for him.

I've tried everything else. SalGal and I have gotten all dolled up on several occasions and gone to bars and parties where we think attractive, middle-aged men might be hangin...with zero results. We either come off as a lesbyterian couple deeply in love with each other or two strong Texas sisters who would mame and torture any man who might be the least bit underqualified for our standards.

At these gatherings it's like we're invisible! I don't get it. Where are all the single, middle-aged, attractive, successful MEN? Are they playing poker with each other or playing polo with their friends? Are they all married? Do they not seek love in their middle-aged years? WHAT?

My matchmakers want to hook me up with a dentist. This is good because my teeth suck, so maybe I can get some good dental care if the love thingy doesn't work out. I'm just afraid he'll ask me to whip out my 'partial' at dinner, then keep my teeth and never call me again!

I'll let you know who comes to my 'stall,' and says, "YES, this is the thoroughbred I'm looking for."


********************************************************************************** you think KK needs a boyfriend or what. Sheesh. I had no idea. When we go out to the bar/restaurnts I'm usually happy to have a drink, talk to her and eat good food. I rarely think about whether men are going to approach us or not. I hope she finds someone good as none of the men she's lived with was good enough for her in my mind. One of them even looked like he had on a Groucho Marks mask. One of them now looks like Igor from 'Young Frankenstien' and one is probably drunk in a cowboy dive in Juarez.
I have had such bad luck with men that I see them as gorillas with dirty underwear, all dressed up and trying to fool me into thinking that they are civilized, but scratching their asses and then smelling their fingers when they get to know you better.
KK assures me that there are good men out there and I know there are. I take full responsibility for the bad choices I've made for men who turn into animals after I've been snared. When I fall in love I fall hard and will do anything including giving up my own personality to please them. That they took full advantage of that and my money is my fault completely and that's why I stay away from them. I like to look at handsome men from afar and imagine that they are loving and nurturing and inspiring and empowering and kind. But my subconscious mind knows that I will pick the gorilla in disguise who is searching for a woman just like I am who will stay with them even after it is revealed that he is grovelling before the porn sites while I'm out trying to generate income to pay the rent. I don't think I will choose him again but I also know you can't decide on with whom you fall in love. So...I play it safe and let KK do the prowl.

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