I'd been told that relaxing is a good thing, but it's never been something I was very good at doing. Somehow, ocean breezes, the sound and smell of the sea, and excellent company allow me to get to that place. I feel like jelly right now, as I contemplate heading back to the mundane of everyday. Rare connections, such as the one I have with the ocean are treasured, as are the other connections I made on this weekend which was so unlike any weekend I've ever had. Look forward to my field correspondent's blog later today!
3:52 pm | link
My next guest blogger is somewhere very dear to me, my sister…a little sister at that. Try as I might to convince her of the superiority of older sisters, she remains unconvinced. She is constantly telling me she has given up Internet dating…but it, seems, swimming in a river called denial.
“I’m NOT internet dating,” I say with resolve. In fact, I’ve told friends to remind me of this fact every time I tell them I have a date – which, of course, I met via the internet. But how else does a person who works from home, and doesn’t get out NEARLY enough, meet someone to date?
Dr. Phil once said, “Do you expect a guy to just throw himself on the roof of your car as you drive to the grocery store?” Um… okay. That would be nice. But with my luck, I’d be answering my cell phone just as he leaped onto my hood – I’d swerve -- he’d fall off the roof -- and I’d squish him like a bug. So goes the guy who threw himself at me.
So, I go back to the internet.
I actually have a theory about internet dating. (If you knew me, you would know I have a theory or opinion on nearly everything). It goes like this: People who are seeking their soul mate via the internet tend to want to screen out rather than screen in. And typically, they start their screening on appearance. Brains be damned. It’s all about the body.
As a person who is not exactly petite in stature, I am painfully aware of the fact that men are visual creatures. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not Large Marge – but I’m 5’11” and certainly have had the misfortune of inheriting the family butt. I have many fine qualities… but model body is simply not one of them.
And, I admit -- I’m guilty of making hasty decisions myself on looks. I’ve been heard more than once saying that a guy is too short… too soft… too old looking! (This last one comes from the fact that I still haven’t come to grips with the fact that my dating pool is 40-50+!)
I remember the date I had in Napa – destination with the makings of a perfect date. It was a beautiful spring day for a lovely drive through wine country. We wined, we picnicked, we laughed, we got along marvelously. But as I sat in the passenger seat on the drive, I would look at him while he talked, and he literally had mannerisms and expressions like my father! This was too much for me. I had to send him the old, “it was a great day, but…. “ note.
But when it happens to me, of course I am less than pleased. Sometimes it’s obvious – I walk up to Mr. Hot Body and he looks me over – I tower over him with my heeled strappy sandals. Nope – this one is not grooving on my charming personality now that he sees that I am bigger than him.
And then there’s the less than subtle – those men who simply ask in email before meeting, “Could you send a full length photo?” They admit they’ve had a bad experience with meeting women who have an exaggerated sense of what “average” body type means.
I am always curious about this when you seem to have a great rapport and lots in common. When two people mentally stimulate each other, do looks REALLY matter that much?
Fortunately, I have enough self esteem to know that while not a perfect body, I am reasonably attractive – and smart. It’s when a man can think I’m sexy because of how I look AND how I think – well, that’s a find. A rare find. I’ve actually had men tell me, “You’re too smart for me.” I used to disagree and wonder if I had to “dumb it down” to have a man be attracted to me. But now when I hear that line, I simply agree and move on.
Which brings me to my current situation. There’s this guy whom I met online about a year ago. We began with an email or two and graduated to instant messaging. The rapport was quick… witty… the kind of banter that makes chatting on line (and in person) something to get excited about. We met, we dated. Things happened and we parted ways with little fanfare. But a year later an instant message pops up on my computer screen from him. He’s been thinking of me.
We resume our banter as if no time had passed. We meet for coffee and have a great conversation. We contemplate dating again. As we travel for our jobs, we continue our banter playfully via instant messenger. He flirtatiously tells me all the things he finds attractive about me. I respond, “But I thought it was my brain that attracted you.”
He said, “Baby, your brain is my Viagra.” Now this one just may be a keeper.
Published on: Jul 4, 2006
No comments:
Post a Comment