Match.com

Hello Angels (and i do sound exactly like Charlie today, perhaps a mix of him and Edith Ann - terrible cold, i thank thee) Last night as i was trying to fall asleep and not suffocate from the congestion, i had several ideas for posts and narrowly beat down the urge to grab the laptop and type-type away.

Yesterday, I had news that someone (who shall remain nameless) that i used to work with, since my having been gone, has expressed dislike for my personality. Generally, these types of things do not bother me: however; I will admit i was surprised at the "who". Ultimately, I must give a small golf clap in his direction, because, bravo! sir, you had me fooled. (And by the way, imagine how uncomfortable I'm about to make him, since i'm somewhat baaaaaaaccccckkk) Which leads me to my rant of the day: Be who you say you are, and do not pretend to be otherwise:

I've had a silly little fling with match.com, during which, not only did i not find love, a friend, or even have, in general, a good time- but... 1) Why would it surprise you that i have red hair, when, in fact, all of the photo's i posted, save one, shows me with bright, vibrant, red hair? 2) Did you bother to read my profile at all, in which i clearly state that i am a born again christian and do not drink? (almost every opening line requesting a date with moi, began with (and i kid you not): 'I just finished reading your profile and you sound fantastic- can i buy you a drink?' 3) I can't believe you don't want to go out with me again, i've been looking for a girl just like you, you're perfect (Yes, yes, i am. Right words, wrong man) 4) It's exhausting just reading all the emails, returning winks, and reviewing pedigree, and still i attract the wrong ones. ONLINE! The crazy inside "me" somehow manages to attract the exact sort of man that i am supposed to avoid like the plague. Speaking of the plague, let me introduce SS: -Super Stupid. This man drives me nuts. Which is, of course, the main reason i just can't quit him. But, back to match.com (don't worry, SS is so ingrained in my everyday life, we'll speak of him again, so much so that, trust me, you'll ask me to stop. Really.)

One of the very first of what would eventually turn out to be many, dud-dates, i shall call Smelly Guy. I can't recall his real name, but, he did make an impression. Online, via messaging, we seemed to hit if off. I was filled with hope (im often filled with hope, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. You'll see.) He explained that he finished Senior year at school with me, and that he recalled me being Winterfest Queen and how i probably didn't remember him because i was popular. Now, this is strike 1 and a compliment all at the same time. Strike 1: we went to school together and i can't remember you. Compliment: I was popular. Oh, my prospective love, no, i was far from popular. But, i am so flattered that you think i was popular, i believe my ego has grown a smidge. I agree to go on a date with Smelly Guy after a week of intense messaging, and afterall, how bad can he be if we went to school together? (couldn't find ANYONE on facebook who remembered the guy, hrrrrmmm) I am a very sensory perceptive person. So, the fact that the first sniff i got of him made me want to vomit, well, lets just say i should have just told him i wasn't interested. Ever the eternal optimist, i went anyway. Who knows, maybe he'd change what he wears for me. HEY! I said change what he wears for me, not change for me. He took me to dinner and proceded to very nearly whisper the few sentences he formed. It probably looked to him as though I was interested, i was leaning so far across the table to try to hear him. He had nothing of merit to say, and struggled to make conversation. Which was never a problem during our messaging sessions. Who was i out with? A little over an hour and a half later, i pronounced the date over, and thanked him for dinner, and declined to see him again. Days later, i'm bombarded with messages, friend requested on facebook, instant messenger requests from an account he hadn't spoken to me on...and voicemails: 'he's so into me and had such a great time' 'im obviously not interested in him, but if i'd give him a second chance, he's sure i'd fall for him because he's so awesome'. Can you hear my sigh of frustration? I finally cave and accept his messenger request, and attempt to be friends. And i'm eventually asked if i am at all attracted to him. Men can never just be friends. So, me being me, I'm brutally honest and say "no" or maybe i said "nope"?, anyway, that singular response promptly ceased all communication from every angle and even earned me a nastygram on match, stating that i'm 'going to need a lot of luck in my search.' Oh smelly guy, you have no idea.