So I am rejoicing – swinging from the rafters and singing from the hilltops like Julie Andrews. The hills are alive.
No, the Boy Situation via Online is still the same. But wah-wah, what are you going to do? One guy I thought was half way decent - can’t remember anything from my last email. And I can tell that his last email to me was actually intended for somebody else because he started it off with, “I’m glad you are not afraid of canines.” Huh? As in teeth? Or dog? Because, actually, I am afraid of both chomping down on me all the time. I see a chihauha, I think he is going to bite me. I see a three year old, I think he is going to bite me. (Yeah, I have already considered changing my blog to Neurotic Me.) Anyway, he is not a dentist so I don't get that one. Is this some witty joke/line that I am too dumb to grasp? And then he asked me questions that I have already answered. And I hate people that don't read or don't remember for sake of First Impression. It's called Trying. And then he asked for my personal email which....no. And I'm totally blind because he has no picture up. Which I have problems with right there. But I only responded because I am trying to keep an open mind and his initial email to me was pretty funny. So, I gave him a chance but now I have decided to "delete" him.
Ha. All my dating experiences are now going to be reduced to computer jargon. If they are really bad, they get CTR + ALT + Delete. Currently, I have no “Favorites.” And there is a “virus” out there that latched on to my profile and Mav's. And it is the Wedding Date Canceler, He Who Swore Never To Go Online Again. (I don't feel like finding the link in my archive but I wrote a lot about him in Apr-May.) But he is online. He looked at my profile too so I clicked on him to let him know that, yeah, I saw that.
But all the 42- and 44- year olds in the DC Metro area are still emailing me. And I just have to say that I don't even look 34. People always tell me that I look 27 and not a day over 30. (Unlike my ex-boyfriend's soon-to-be-wife who is 37 and looks 44. Really.) And I am young at heart. My biological clock has yet to tick - I'm not even sure it ever will. So why are they even attracted to me? So I lowered my “age requirement” to 38. I had 40 as my top bracket and I was being generous with that. I think that the 42 year olds figure - what’s a few years? When do you decide to cut off - at 36 or 37 or 38? When is it random? It seems like it should be five year increments. But I'm 34 and 36, 37, 38 is not too old for me. I don’t understand the 32-year old who won’t date a girl over 31. When does a 32 year old establish that 32 - in a woman - is too old for him? And I don't understand the 34-year old guy who is looking for a 21-year old girl. In any case, I pay attention to the guys' age ranges. I think it says a little about the guy.
So, needless to say, the ranting and whining will probably continue. Sorry. I hate being negative. It's just a rough patch right now. We will get through it. It's my own Ophelia lingering on my shore. Eventually she will break up and push back out to sea.
But I got sidetracked anyways. What I am really happy about is that my iPod, Formerly Known as #$%!@*#, is fixed! Up and running and restored with all 2037 songs. I love her! And just for cooperating we are celebrating. We will go for long walks this weekend and she most certainly will talk my ear off – and sing as loud as she wants. Yes, I do have the Sound of Music soundtrack. And maybe I will feed her some more songs. The new Stellastarr CD is out. Or that Trees song by Marty on Rock Star: INXS. (Love that Marty! Love that song.) Nothing's too good for my baby.
But there will also be a treat for me.
Witness firsthand how mentally dyslexic I am. How I approach logic backwards. I almost was desperate enough that I was going to shell out $50 – 100 on the Apple Help Desk for them to tell me to put it in disk mode and that would solve all my problems. Information I found freely on the Internet. So I am happy that I "saved" $100. So now I feel completely justified to go out and buy those $180 Versace sunglasses that Mav and I spotted last weekend. See, in my mind, I am saving money. That is what I tell myself. And I am an emotional spender. Like the time I spent $300 at the vet - hyperventilated - then had to go out and buy $600 worth of clothes at French Connection and Nordstrom's. You see why I don't own my house? I spend my mortgage on clothes, shoes, purses, and beauty products. I am girl, hear me roar.
So I am rejoicing because my iPod is fixed and I am "getting" the Versace sunglasses. To invert a Husker Du song title my lovely little iPod randomly played for me this morning - Everything Blue Turns Pink - or Happy, eventually. Right?