Match is Not Matching Up

It has now been a month and a half since I joined Match.com. Not a ton of time, mind you, but enough to get a feel of the site. Here's what I've learned:

First, people, especially men, hate reading. Plain and simple. For me, longer emails are great. They actually give details, ask questions, and stimulate intellectual conversation (well, most of the time). I love them; but what I've found is that when I send longer emails in response to a short one, it becomes a turn-off for the man. I have always been verbose and know it can be a negative trait, but how hard is it to read an extra few paragraphs? I guess harder than I thought. So, I'm working on sending much pared down versions. No success with that, either, though, so we'll see which route garners the most rewards.

Second, some men use Match as a hook up service. Match is their pimp, and sex is expected. I am an open book and have no ulterior motives, and because of this, I don't usually look for them in others, unless I'm given reason to believe they are being dishonest or deceitful. So, it took me a few minutes to realize that two of my dates were just pimping themselves out via Match and expected me to be on the same page. Not a fun situation, so I am well aware of the warning signs that come with this type of guy: wanting to meet, regardless of the time of night or how long you've talked; not willing to write back and forth; and discussing sex early in the relationship, sometimes in graphic detail.

Third, dating on a site like this is a lot like Chris Rock's stand-up routine where he states that people aren't meeting the other person on a date, they are meeting that person's "representative." At least two men have mentioned that my "picture doesn't do me justice" on my profile. A nice compliment until they begin to expound on the subject: "Well, that dress makes you look fatter and you look kind of geeky." Gee, thanks. I guess I'll head down to Glamour Shots for a make-over and picture session. Goody. (Can you hear the sarcasm? If not, I can turn it up a bit...) Why does the picture matter so much? I know look are important at some level, but it sucks that a few paragraphs and old picture have to be your "representatives". I am so much more than that.

My impatience with dating is growing as quickly as a weed in the spring. I sure hope that someone I'm compatible with is around the corner. For now, I'll just try to think positive; like how the writers of "How I Met Your Mother" phrased this feeling of hopeless waiting: you are in a math problem with two trains, speeding towards each other on the track. It is inevitable they will meet, it is just a matter of time, as each train has to make its designated stops first. Choo-choo. :)

Pondering Life on a Snowy Day

I am sitting in front of my window, watching the giant, fuzzy snowflakes as they take their big rollercoaster ride from the sky, dipping and corkscrewing as they tumble down on the invisible track of air. These snowflake passengers arrive via wind and settle down to their new homes amidst the tree branches, porches, and cars, creating a stark white contrast. At first, all I can think about is the snow. How pure it makes the world look, like it's been given a makeover, with fish-belly white as a concealer of the blights of mankind (dirty roads, big SUVs, and strip malls).

But, like a lot of things in life, snow only stays pure for a moment before a car drives over it and mucks up the color to a dirty gray or someone tracks through it, leaving a trail of dirty prints behind. This is how I am currently feeling about life. I have moments of purity and/or clarity of thought and belief, but then I go and traipse all over it with my cynical outlook.

For instance, I have had two dates so far that have actually been pleasant. We talked a lot and there actually is chemistry for a change, yet, I find myself staying a bit removed and I can't figure out why. I want a relationship, that pure meeting of two people who are on the same levels mentally, emotionally, and physically. However, as I date, in my mind, I keep seeing the yucky parts the "snow" hasn't covered up yet. I trounce all over the moments of purity I share with this man as my brain continues to say, "yes, but the snow will pass and you'll be left with the dirty roads and dead grass."

How do you end this type of thinking, when it now seems to come as habitually as my nicotine craving? I guess just stop, but it is sometimes hard to catch yourself when it comes as second nature. I've got to, though, or I don't think I'll ever be able to be happy, as I'll always be looking for the bad lurking around the good. I deserve to be happy and have more pure moments; now, I've just got to convince myself of that. :) Maybe this new man will help me to believe in optimism again.

A Letter to Zach Anderson

Dear Zach,

I felt the need to write to you. Though you will never get this letter, I need to send it, and I hope that you can see what I'm typing from wherever you may be.

You are my first student that I knew well to pass. Let me tell you, hearing that you, at 18 years old, unexpectedly died definitely caused a reaction I had not expected. Your face suddenly flashed in front of my eyes and I burst into tears. I remember you well: always with a smile on your face, despite what you faced at home and the challenge you faced at school each day. That takes strength and courage of character, and I admire you greatly for that. You were always quick to stand up for others as well, and selflessness is not something you encounter in teenagers very often. It was a true pleasure to teach you in class and to know you as a person.

I remember that you always asked me how my day was. You don't know how nice that is for a teacher; we so very seldom are asked how we are, and you always sincerely wanted to know how my day had been. I remember you bringing pictures of your little niece to school and bragging about how cute she is (which she is!). You will always hold a special place in my heart and these are the memories I will use as adhesive to fill the space you left in our school and community.

You have taught me, though dying, that I need to live more. I'm living half-dead at times and need to shake myself up and really live and enjoy life. I spend too many wasted minutes being anxious about my job and love life and who knows what else. It is sad that it took your death for me to discover that, but I do believe everything happens for a reason. I have no idea what the reason was in your case, as you of all my students, deserved a long-lived life; yet for no apparent reason, whoever is running this show took you so early.

However, for me, I believe you were brought into my life to teach me strength, compassion, and courage. Even in your leaving this world, you managed to teach me another lesson about my own life. The tables have turned, Zach; you are now my teacher and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that.

Thinking of you,

Ms. G

A Bad Case of the Blahs

I felt like shit this morning; more stomach pains and cramps all over my back and stomach. I called in sick and then proceeded to sleep straight from 7 am until 7 pm. I was so confused when I woke up; I thought it was either the same day and I'd dreamed that I'd called in sick or that it was the next day and I was now late for work.

It took me turning on the TV to see the evening news to realize I'd slept all day. Apparently I also slept through three phone calls and two knocks on the door as well. It has been quite a while since I've slept that long; I guess I needed it.

I am getting so sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. I have done every test in the book: a colonoscopy, a CT scan, blood work, urine work, a pap smear, an upper GI and small bowel, ER tests, etc. All are normal, yet, I am still in pain. WTF?!!!

I know stomach problems are the hardest to diagnose because there are so many organs in such a small place, but for the love of God, I need to find someone who will tell me what is going on.

I am just feeling blah today. Anybody got any suggestions for curing the blahs?