Finally, FINALLY, I have given up carrying a torch for
One Syllable (refer to first several or so blog entries and my New Years one,
if you’re puzzled). I mean, what could I
do further? I practically put myself
naked on the dining room table, decorated with sushi like Samantha in Sex in the City (figuratively folks, and
for the record I’m most definitely a CHARLOTTE, not a Samantha), and he could
not deliver, in fact, frankly, he acted like a teen-age girl. However, because I respect his profession and
privacy, I won’t elaborate further.
So it’s finished, kaput,
finis, etc., and I might add, before it even started up a second time, but I
suppose that is best. So hopefully all of you who had alarms going “ding, ding,
ding…” when I mentioned “do-over” will be mollified. As I’ve told several of my friends… I’m not a
masochist and even I, as much as I long for something, can see the writing on
the wall.
So now, I have many other
little things in the hopper. Nothing
concrete. I did have an interesting
exchange today on my favorite free site… guy emails the following:
“Does a
real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?”
I should explain. At the end of my profile I say that people
can contact me if they’re done exploring their feminine sides and they open the
door for someone other than themselves.
I did steal that line from
one of my friends who’s even more cynical about this than I am. Oh, did I admit
that? Well, again, taking from what I
said up a couple of paragraphs, I’d have to be a masochist not to be a little
cynical and a little protective at this point, but I do press on – like a shark
as I also have said.
So, back to the
conversation:
“Does a real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?”
he queried.
“In my
opinion, yes,” I wrote.
“Would
you consider sleeping with me on the first date?”
“I
would consider many things, but the distance is just too much, sorry,” (he
lives 63 miles away).
He
persisted and I now ignore. You can do that.
Another
gentleman, on the same site, had a photo he posted wearing gym shorts (from
the 80’s in my estimation), running shoes and socks and that’s all, she wrote. He had contorted himself into some kind of
stretching position, which was supposed to, I guess, show everyone how limber
he was.
One
could take one’s imagination even further here.
That Gym Shorts Man might be adept at many of the more difficult
positions of the Kama Sutra, but that’s only, again, in one’s imagination, and only again if one wanted to.
I
actually remember doing such stretches when I was taking Hapkido (a form of
Korean Self-Defense). So Gym Shorts Man
wrote me a poem that was rich in sensual images and long on corniness. It had a
huge ICK factor.
The
only way to get rid of the cringiness was to send it to a couple of
friends. One, I think, nearly did a
spit-take on her computer screen and said she nearly threw-up into her yogurt. Another said she was throwing up in her
mouth. They were both bowled over in
hilarity. If I can’t share, if I have to
spare the snark, I can’t do this!!
Not
so nice of me, but, honestly, folks, one has little patience for those things
at this point. I also marvel at the
things that some people think are charming.
Don’t despair, I was very kind and just said I was not one of those
women to whom poetry initially appealed, but he could write me a nice note and
I would respond. He wrote something
further poetical and I could no longer take it.
I don’t remember responding, I have an aversion to people who can’t
follow simple directions. He did write
to me later on as well, but messages like that simply don’t provoke responses,
certainly not for me.
I’ve
been busy at it. I’ve joined one more
free site, which I’m a little skeptical about.
It has people from all over the world who just seem to want to waste
time on-line. We will not waste time, as
there is no time to waste!
I
have been getting in touch with people and have had some responses. People get in touch with me, I sometimes
respond as I’ve gone back to my old way of doing things… I just can’t be
rude. If they don’t like it, I don’t
really care. One of my friends suggested
writing to 5 people everyday. That
actually might be a good idea, because if one does that, one barely remembers or
registers who hasn’t responded, so one’s ego isn’t too bruised in the process.
I
have persuaded a friend to go back on Match and have cautioned her on the
following, so some more lessons. You
can’t get invested in ANYONE until you at least meet them. There are loads of people who just love the
sound of their keyboard and email and email and email until you think, good
grief, enough already. You write, you
wink, you nudge, you do a couple of back and forths and then if they don’t want
to meet, well, that’s it. Frankly, I can
even do without the long and drawn out phone calls some people want to indulge
in. I believe it may be just another
dodge – another way to delay the inevitable.
Just
meet me and if we like each other, you can have my number.
Really.
