Dating: Not For the Fainthearted

Daily Destinations

I just threw a grape at the monitor.

The road less traveled is getting shorter, my friends, .....er.....or longer.

I hesitate to offer anything remotely resembling common sense, but nevertheless, an epiphany doesn't come along that often and I'm overdue. Aren't you glad that I picked you to listen?

A swearing ceremony took place in my lonely little house this afternoon. After I threw around a few choice words, feeling sanctimonious, richly ceremonial, I staggered in front of the mirror, raised my left hand (obviously, I had to use the left hand.....it's a mirror! Duh!) and pronounced to myself as I stood swaying in my fuzzy slippers and floppy nightgown, "I swear on my puny little life that I will never melt, tingle, wiggle, giggle, or otherwise gyrate in the presence of men again (or women for that matter). I vow to end this mindless chasing of the not-so-chaste and learn to knit instead.

Should I backslide and find myself clinging to the keyboard in the middle of the night, I will immediately call one of my most trusted friends (likely one of you) to break down the door, pry my hands away, and take me to the nearest 12-step meeting. So help me God."

The story I'm about to relate to you is true. Believe it or not, these are actual online dating profiles that managed to find their way into the e-boxes of a few close friends and Yours Truly - 25 in fact - all unsolicited and mercifully unanswered. Written in response to ads placed by said friends (and Yours Truly), I take full responsibility for failing to recognize our self-inflicted insanity. Apparently, it's contagious.

Except for a few promising emails from "normal" guys that may, or may not, have potential, I'd say we have definitely managed to generate some online interest. Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen. Judging from today's batch of candidates - whom I've addressed for sake of convenience as all written to me - I personally think a quiet defection to Siberia would be in order.

Disclaimer: All spelling errors being equal, I have quoted verbatim from the profiles of these men and did not misspell the words myself. Having said that, I hope I don't misspell anything. Please forgive me if I do and blame it on the undue mental anguish I've experienced since my recent addiction took hold. (Names and locations have been changed to protect the cyber-innocent).

The week started out with a kind and thoughtful email from Mr. MSC1975, a 51 yr old man looking for the Christian wife he'd obviously not found since his divorce -10 years ago - and since he "found" the Lord. Having forewarned me that he'd shaved his head just before these pictures were delivered to me, I braced myself for yet another guy I'm really not attracted to. He did not disappoint me. Along with his true-blue hairless head, he sent pictures of his TEN children - all appearing to be in their teens or early 20's and quite honestly - they were just plain scary. It was, in fact, hereditary.

I swear to you these people looked like the Addams family gone awry and so very proud to be standing there with Mr. (bald) Mom. Was it a Photo joke? I hope so.
I quickly remembered some urgent matters that needed attending to and made my cyber getaway. Just a fluke, I told myself; not to worry.

Meanwhile, lingering hopefully in my Personals mailbox sat 24 colorful prospects, all eager to meet Miss Sassy. Gee........those new pics must be better than I thought! This is great! On I trudged, undaunted and determined to find Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Almost-Right. Maybe I would even strike "humor" off my list of ten must-have-qualifications, couldn't I, for the sake of fair play and sensibility?
 Nobody's perfect! I'm just being too picky, I thought.

I brewed a pot of coffee and turned up Sarah McLachlan.

Bachelor #1: From St. Louis, I am greeted on the first leg of my journey with this opening statement from firedanceoflife -

"When you are happy dance around and wag your entire body."

We're off to a running start.

It was then I noticed his ID name. It was CACTUSDANCER.

I guess I'd wag too if I danced on a cactus! And how DO you wag your entire body, that seems like a limb-by-limb disjointed sorta dance - not a full-fledged body fit, as his opening sentence implied; perhaps the Hokey-Pokey. And to top it all off, he had a Post Graduate degree.

Stay tuned. Part II tomorrow......