I'm not Desperate. Just Bored.

At least that's what I"m telling myself is the reason to consider online dating again. Bored. I spent the entire weekend alone. I mean, I talked to the lady at Starbucks and to the chick who painted my toenails. But I didn't spend time with anyone I know. I want to spend time with someone I know. Don't you? But when you don't know many someones...what do you do? How do you meet them? And by them--I'm talking about the opposite sex. When did meeting men become so difficult? All those old movies had women meeting men in soda shops, on street cars, walking in the park? I don't get it.! Is it because we don't wear hats or bosom-heaving corsets and red lipstick anymore? Oh wait, that's not true, I just saw that at Target...but still, no men coming up to her. So what is it?

Despite the nasty breakup, I think I was a pretty decent, somewhat kinda okay girlfriend. (I bought him a gas grill?)And I"d like another shot at it, thank you. But if you don't hang out in bars or wear tube tops and go clubbing on a bike half drunk--how do you meet someone? I tried online dating at the suggestion of my sister. She said, if anything, "it gives you something to do!" I needed something to do. But maybe not this. Oil painting may be more appropriate.

I wrote what some told me quite likely, is the funniest profile ever to be written on Match.com. Granted--funny isn't what they're all looking for, now is it? If I can find it--I"ll share it with you. But suffice it to say, you probably shouldn't start off your dating profile with comparing online dating to ripping off a bandage quickly, forming a scar that turns to puss and possibly death by infection. And you probably shouldn't tell the players to move along and the nice guys "while I am more inclined to talk to you and go on a sympathy date, it's not going to happen here so don't waste your lame 'winks' on me--what are we twelve? I'm into chemistry." Seriously. That was what I wrote. But then I also wrote I bake the best damn biscotti in the world. Balance. It's an important quality when choosing a mate.

Now, I only had my profile up for a few weeks. And it did get viewed several hundred times. I got quite a few emails--but let's face it. Match.com is a software program. That's filtered by information you input. Scan, Scan...and BING! No one--even men my age--is putting in the number 47. Or will click on 47. So while I got one younger guy who admitted he was only separated and addicted to ambien...I also got a healthy dose of "older men" wearing cowboy hats, a dude who sent me a video of himself singing a song he wrote for me, and one guy who I'm convinced is Vern Troyer's identical twin, complete with hairless cat. (in the profile photo)

Maybe I wasn't ready for this. I went on one coffee date. So I wanted to be ready, right? But the rest--I couldn't budge on. There's something so false about meeting someone hiding behind computer screens--they all can't be great cooks, movie-goers, hand-holders, walk in the moonlight types of guys? At least my profile was dead on sarcastic girl! What you read is pretty much what you get. I told them if I didn't meet anyone--I'd be fine--cuz "I have lifetime free TiVo." (maybe that's why they emailed me?)

So this weekend--in the midst of total loneliness, I decided to look at it again. Just look. But this time--it was worse than I remembered. I just can't be serious about men posing behind handles like "Luv2holdu2" or "RuThe1?" and my personal fave "Jessicasdad".  I'm sorry. But match.com should re-title itself "divorcedadslookingforsex.com"  Oh--and add a disclaimer--older ladies need not apply. Unless you're into old, REALLY old men. Not even the 70 year olds are looking for 47.

I can't do it. No matter how bored I am. And okay, no matter how desperate and lonely I am. Maybe it's time to get a sport. Like rock climbing? But first I better get the bunions fixed. That's the thing about meeting someone in person. You can't lie like you can on the internet. (college photos) You can see those suckers sticking out of my shoes from a mile away. (But you can also see my smile!)

Signed, "Feetfckedup4u".