Who’s My Daddy? June 15, 2009
Posted by mizzsylviawinchester in Bad Poetry, E-males, Emails, Life Online, okcupid.com.Tags: creepy old guys, ew, Father's Day, Who's your daddy?
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With all the buzz about the ‘Cougar’ phenomenon, I have been concerned. The less I hear about the May/December pairings, the more I worry that this time-honored male fantasy has gone the way of the dodo bird.
Just when I thought all hope was lost, the clouds literally parted as a dodo emerged. My inbox welcomed a digital overture from a 60 year old man ready to start making some babies. Sweet.
(They don’t call them ’sextegenerians’ for nothing.)
I was excited to receive his many emails. Only one thing about his profile gave me pause… Given the already gaping age gap his life experience advantage, the main picture choice is curious. He’s decked out in a Revolutionary War period costume.
(He might as well have gone for Paleolithic.)
Here’s an excerpt from the message I received:
Are you at all intrigued with our possibilities, even if only for interesting conversations? I enjoy meeting and getting to know people. As with all things in life, one never knows what might become of such interactions. I realistically view meeting others as doors opening into the future, to be enjoyed and explored without any preconceived notions of where they will go or become.
As flattering as the attention is, let’s keep it real. How many men have you known to approach a woman on a dating site for ‘interesting conversations’?
(My point exactly.)
So, how does one respond to such an email?
(In poetic verse… naturally.)
My Dad is cool.
He’s 61 and super great.
Given that you’re close to his age,
I’d prefer not to date.
Still, good luck to you, Sir.
Be patient while you wait.
Hope you find a fertile lady
With whom to procreate.
Is there a Dr. Warren in the house? April 14, 2009
Posted by mizzsylviawinchester in A-musings, Current Events, Hot Topics, Sites That Inspire Us, eharmony.com.Tags: Dr. Neil Clark Warren, eHarmony, Funny or Die, Lindsay Lohan, Samantha Ronson
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I think she needs a tad more than 29 dimensions of compatibility, but don’t we all dahhhlink.
Call Waiting for Godot July 16, 2008
Posted by mizzsylviawinchester in A-musings, chemistry.com.Tags: "folk wisdom", "Samuel Beckett" "Waiting for Godot" "call waiting"
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It is very useful to have friends skilled at using humor to gently point out the absurdity of the way in which you are approaching a challenging situation. I met one such person (we’ll call him “Friendan”) two years ago through Chemistry.com, proving that occasionally online exchanges are not completely tragic.
A while back we were having a heart to heart during which I ruminated about the unsatisfying nature of recent interactions with a former flame. As if on cue, a call that he had to take came in while I was mid-sentence. When he clicked back from the other line his first words were:
That was Jack.
He told me to tell you he said hi.
Samuel Beckett 2.0
I was a tad bewildered. I had never met or heard him mention a friend named Jack and wondered why this mystery person was sending along a salutation.
See, Jack is also my ex’s name but Friendan had not had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. “Wh… uhhh… Whooo???” was about all I managed to get out.
Jack… you know – your ex.
I still didn’t get it but was curious to see where it was going. He catches me off guard like this every now and then and it’ll take me a moment to pick up what he’s putting down. I asked him what, besides hello, Jack had to say.
He said it’s all his fault. He’s being a dick.
You’re right. He’s wrong.
He’d tell you himself but he’s a guy.
Ahhhh – now I got it. Well played, my friend. Well played.
It’s settled, you’re vindicated.
Now you can move on.
There was no trace of exasperation in his voice even though he knew, all too well, the unhealthy behaviors I was cycling through at breakneck speed. I was barking up a tree that bore no fruit and who amongst us hasn’t engaged in a similarly pointless exercise at one time or another? What? You haven’t? <cough>Liar</cough>
Truth is, the dogged pursuit of warmth and closure from the source in question was not without consequence. Each strained interaction served to erode whatever connection remained. My favorite bit of folk wisdom sums up the resulting tension quite nicely.
You can’t teach a pig to sing.
It’s a waste of time and it just annoys the pig.
While I’m certainly not saying my ex is a pig, the basic message rings true… as much for myself as for him. (I’ll be the first to admit that it takes two to tangle.)
Getting on with it is a clumsy dance involving many left feet. Hidden in the bundle of raw nerves, former lovers are – at the same time – closer and more distant than friends would ever be. The only two people who know exactly what was lost are unable to comfort one another and the disconnect is as necessary as it is unnatural.
Friendan reminds me that the opposite of love is apathy, not hate. (Dammit- he’s right AGAIN.) Putting aside the sweet everythings once whispered is not my forte. Emotional divestiture may go against my very nature, but I suppose it’s a choice like any other. We all write our own story (like the relationship edition of “Choose Your Own Adventure”). So, is it going to be:
- A cut and dry saline flashflood. (Think Lifetime Original Movie)
OR
- Fond memories of a bittersweet romance. (Jack and I will always have Toms River, NJ.)
Personally, I’m working on the latter. Nancy McKeon couldn’t begin to do me justice.
