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My Profile
She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
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9:49 a.m. - 2008-01-25
Just for chucks I checked out my old stomping grounds at Yahoo and Match this morning. Huge surprise…85% of the guys were the same ones from a year ago. Same pics. Same lame opening lines. Dur! "Dudes! Get a clue! If it hasn't worked by now why not try something different? Like maybe mail order brides. Prostitutes. Blow-up dolls. It's for damn sure your sorry asses will stay on the cyber store shelf forever at the rate you're going." No. No. A thousand times NO! I am not shopping. I just got curious because Pam asked if it was true that Mick and I met through Match. It is. I found my love of life in the cyber personals. It seems hard to believe now. But yes, we are a Match success story. We, of course, would never be featured on the Match homepage. We're about 8,000 years too old for their target demographic. Why Match insists on only congratulating dewy youngins when their biggest bulge of ads are posted by the 35-50 crowd I do not know. "Tawny (23 and totally HOTTT) and Justin (25 and uber-buff) are a Match Success Story! They met here and had six whole dates before Tawny moved on to Tristan (23 and even HOTTTTER than the SUN!). Try Match hotttt kiddies! Don't mind that herd of creepy unworthy old people who are here too. Nobody cares if their droopy selves ever find love and happiness, we just list them because we need the $$$$." Funny thing about meeting Mick at Match, he and I had been stepping all over each others' lives for the last 20 years. We have people in common. Places in common. We did the math and figured out that he and I must have been at the same store/party/event/diner at least 100 times. And we never met. The universe had been throwing us together since the late 80's and nada. We had to wait for the internet to be invented and online dating sites to become normal before we finally caught up with destiny. Then again if we'd met 20 years ago nothing would have happened. Both of us were married. Even if we'd been free as birds it wouldn't have gone anywhere, he was a cop and I was bookstore owning hippie flake. A squatty muscle-head cop with an ego even bigger than his pecs? Not a chance. And for him an Amazonian Gypsy Barbie with a pack a day habit and a framed print of the Resolutions of the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848 on the wall behind the counter of her radical bookstore? Bwahahahaha! No, no. Back then Mr Mick was into tiny brunette "Yes, dear" types. We both had a lot of growing up and mellowing out to do. But… We figured it out eventually. TGIF! ~LA
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