Rapier's Wit

It seems to be a common occurrence that eHarmony advertises a FREE weekend when a long holiday weekend approaches.  Those advertisements reminded me of my own experience with the dating website designed for truly deep connections.  Needless to say, that didn't pan out, did it? It's terribly pricey and I just don't deem it a necessary expense.  Plus, there was such a discord with the harmonious online match maker that I'm still left with its stench in my olfactory system. Here it is.  Consider yourself warned -- smile. My sour note with eHarmony aka Please pass the pooty wipes I tantalized you with the promise of another vexxing tale regarding online dating sites in a previous entry. I didn't forget. The new year got in the way of my ability to write cohesively and/or coherently. I didn't get blown away wasted. Although, I did partake in a little adult beverage in the comfort of my humble abode. I'm not a party animal, although I'd like to play one ...

OK, I'm a tall chick. I'm not a rail thin supermodel tall chick. Let's just say my curves make an entrance before I do. There's no secret that I battle with my weight and the weight usually wins. That's not what this is about. I recently signed up on dating website. I'm not revealing which one because I do like to keep some things private. In my profile I state that I am a plus-size "thick" woman of 5'11". Due to my height and size I prefer a man bigger and as tall if not taller than me. I have taken about as much flack for such a preference than I can bear. Men who are shorter seem to give me guff for "setting such a specific parameter therefore limiting the dating pool." Now, my argument is that many women who are much shorter than I prefer men who tower over them. A lot of men that I know who are taller than me prefer petite women. I don't throw a fit and tell them they are fools for having such specific desires. ...

I read a recent blog post on Sean Daly's Pop Life regarding a phone interview he had with Alanis Morissette. I was reminded of a song that so perfectly resonates with my own love life/lack thereof. It's from her cd titled, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie . The song is Unsent. It tells of the letters written to former lovers. I've never sat down and composed letters to the men who've passed through the gateway of my heart and head. More often, I've had the rare opportunity to express myself directly. My words to their ears....even if they were deaf to the sound of my disappointment. Blue Eyes and I spent Thanksgiving together that November of '01. I was ecstatic to make a feast for the man who'd captured my interests. He arrived the Wednesday evening prior to Thanksgiving. He carried on how it was the best turkey dinner he'd ever eaten. He departed the Friday after the holiday. It was the only time he would ever cross the threshold of my sweet, lit...

There was a time when my outlook on dating; and the opportunity to do so didn't seem so far fetched. Situations on the home front permitted me weekend time. As it was, my ex-husband was available to put on his parental hat and take the Man-cub so I could go out; shake my groove thang, so to speak. I was a regular visitor in a chat room on AOL. From time to time I'd make a connection with a potential date in that venue. There was one particular guy I'd been talking to for quite some time; both on the phone and online. We seemed to hit it off, but it wasn't fireworks. Truly, should that happen when you've not met face to face, I suggest pouring ice cold water on your manner of thinking. SNAP OUT OF IT! Don't get giddy until you've met and spent time together. Trust me on this, people. This fella lived in Savannah, GA. Now, I had been living in Gainesville, GA and the road trip would take approximately 5 hours of driving a normal, legal speed limit. I'd ne...

In my previous blog summarizing my Internet dating experiences, I promised a woeful; yet funny tale about my match.com experience. No one said Internet dating was easy. Much like anything else in life, you have to have patience, sort through the BS and hopefully, be wise enough to see blatant red-flags. By age 42 I figured I'd be savvy enough to manage wading through the fallacies men often toss out on their line in hopes of hooking a woman like a voracious salmon swimming upstream to mate. The perusal of profiles ensued. My own profile delightful witty, but not daft. I revealed just enough to appear intriguing, but not mysterious. The perfect photo on display. Now, I just needed to sit back and wait for Mr. Right to send me a message. What a laughable thought that was. I was specific that I wanted someone who lived within a reasonable driving distance. I got responses from men in California, Oregon, Utah. The last time I checked, Illinois was not even close to bordering those s...

I was just reading an online acquaintance's blog and I nearly spit my coffee everywhere when I read this line: " Men in the Midwest, on the general whole, are ugly ." No offense to any good looking man who happens to live in the armpit of America (my term). Let it also be stated that, if you are a good looking man who resides in the Midwest, you are an anomaly. God Bless you wherever you are; and are you single looking to date a woman with a teen-age son? HA! I digress. I work in a mall setting. That in itself sounds pathetic. As luck would have it. No, it's not lucky. Anyway, there is a large window in our store that allows me plain view of the passing public. Needless to say, my male co-workers have a lot more to look at than we gals of the lab. It's on a rare occasion that a tall, good looking man walk by and strike my middle-aged, single and looking fancy. Did I mention that I'm single and looking? Again, I digress. Like a sniper on the look out we signal ...