I admit it.
I'm on the site. You know the one. The one referred to as a 'meat market', the one that is not E-Harmony, which allegedly only attracts decent, honest, highly respectable people who have been somehow overlooked by the Cosmic Cupid and are in the final analysis the only ones who deserve true love.
Don't believe it.
I know someone on E Harmony, and they've met someone.
Proof positive that even Cosmic Cupid takes his eyes off the road every once in a while.
They're just the only ones out there with enough time on their hands to fill out the complex, endless, ridiculously probing, more than slightly irritating and entirely time-wasting 'profile' neccessary to gain membership in the site provided they immediately afterward send a check for way more money than they should and sacrifice their first born in a used car lot under a half moon.
Um...if I'm on Match.com, it's because my leisure time is limited. The profile wasn't all that hard to create and if I'm guilty of anything it's having lousy pictures. I admit to breaking the cardinal rule of profile picture posting: No ex husband in the shots. I plead guilty. In an effort to post at least one picture where I don't have sunglasses on, I posted one of us hugging (but distantly...bear with me and realize the shot was taken near the end of the marriage and we were at Disneyworld for pete's sake, Epcot Center, trying like madmen to pretend like we were having fun) and one of myself and my former dog that inadvertently captured his foot (be-socked, not naked) in one corner of the frame because he'd been too lazy at the time of taking the picture to sit up straight.
What the heck.
The profile picture was taken with my cell phone by a wonderfully cooperative co-worker who didn't bother to inquire why in the world I would want my picture taken when obviously I was in the middle of what was not then and never would be one of my better hair days.
So I'm on the site and have been for a while, and I have had a series of rather regrettable first dates, some of which I may write about at some point and some which I will spend the rest of my life trying to forget, or taking as proof that Cosmic Cupid has a very twisted sense of humor.
I have a first date upcoming, this Saturday.
I am nervous as hell. The reason for this being, this person writes wonderful emails, exhibits every characteristic I've ever been taught or read about being a gentleman, appears attractive from his photos, and is a true pleasure to talk with on the phone.
We're meeting for dinner on Saturday night. I chose the safe road, and picked a restaurant in the building where I work. This way if the date goes bad, I know all the secret, emergency exits and passageways and can be halfway home before it dawns on him that I excused myself to the ladies room over an hour ago.
Not to come across as cynical and skeptical as I can be (I inherited that from my grandmother, I'm sure, along with the eye color...), but I'm fully expecting him to be 3' tall or something else rather outlandish.
Can someone who seems to be what they seem to be truly be what they seem to be?
We'll see, and I will keep you posted.
In the meantime, I am off to endure ridiculous amounts of angst wondering what in the hell to wear.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Demystifying The Cougar
Maybe it's just me and I'm quite sure it probably is but lately I'm bothered by all the negative publicity about women of a certain age (anything over 35) and a certain status (not living out of a shopping cart and most certainly single) and how we're all lumped together, defined and stereotyped by one single word: Cougar.
Cougar as in, wild, uncontrolled animal, basically a predator at heart. If she had a heart that is, and she does she's just so busy prowling for younger men (or other women's husbands) that she doesn't let it cross her mind much. There's no room in her mind for anything to cross, the space being absorbed by her plans, schemes, and complex designs on younger men and other women's husbands.
Let's observe a cougar in the wild, according to this popular mythology...
She's at a bar, with friends. They're all having wine and talking. This is what's going on. What cougar watchers see is this: She is at a bar with friends. The friends are talking. The cougar is listening but she's not let her eyes leave that college kid three tables over since he walked in the door. When she leaves she will grab him around the neck, drag him to her car and shamelessly take him home to have her way with him.
The cougar goes shopping for shoes, and clothes. She takes a married girlfriend along. Here's what's going on: They both want new shoes, and new clothes. They'd like to look their best in the office. Here's what cougar observers see: The married woman is shopping for shoes and clothes to look good for her husband, and also because she wants to look her best in the workplace. The cougar is shopping for shoes and clothes and could care less about either. She's only there to scope out the nineteen year old in men's shoes and purchase something that will make it even easier for her to swoop down on her unsuspecting prey in the office and ruthlessly drag them away from existing girlfriends and wives to her lair, where she will shamelessly have her way with them.
The cougar does well at work. The married girlfriend does well at work. Here's what's going on: They both have strong work ethics and want to excel in their fields. Here's what cougar observers see: The married girlfriend excels at work because she has achieved a remarkable balance between work/home, managing to take care of her house and husband and still make time for career. The cougar excels at work because obviously, she's sleeping with someone who makes the decisions.
A cougar and a married woman go to the grocery store. They both buy steak, potatoes, a French pastry dessert, and stop off at the wine store afterward for a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that's been advertised on sale. Here's what's going on: They would both like to have a nice dinner, watch a great movie on HBO, and enjoy a glass of wine. Here's what cougar observers see: The married woman is making a romantic meal for her husband, keeping the spice in her relationship. The cougar is laying a trap for that night's unsuspecting pizza delivery boy who will be grabbed around the neck, forced into her lair, and plied with wine, French pastry, potatoes and beef until she has shamelessly and recklessly had her way with him.
You can see my point. No matter what we're doing we're damned from the outset. Even something as innocuous as getting our hair colored. Are we trying to cover the gray, or are we trying to look even younger so as to better accost, kidnap,molest, and otherwise wrench away young men from the women they should rightfully be with?
When I was married, I did the same thing I do now: Being somewhat of a chatterbox, I 'yuck it up' with everybody, male or female. Nobody thought anything of it and neither do I. Now if I have a conversation longer than two minutes in duration with anyone who pees standing up, I have an inquiry from a co-worker about if there's, "something going on there". Yes, I want to say, there is: A conversation.
Here's my take: The whole cougar thing is a myth. A cougar is nothing more than your average young single woman with a couple of exceptions. As it was put so well in Fried Green Tomatoes, she's older and she has more insurance. We're no more trolling than anyone else, and if we look younger than our counterparts did thirty years ago, blame better vitamin technology, fabulous and affordable facial products, and just a general loosening up in overall philosophy about age. There's an old advertising jingle, something along the lines of, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." I'd like to re-write that on behalf of women everywhere who are over thirty-five, single, and not living out of a shopping cart (aka Cougars): Don't hate me because I'm independent and unconcerned whether you find me beautiful or not. If we attract men who are frightened by younger women, it's because we're not trying to attract them. We're too busy with our own lives, and as we all know, once you stop looking for something it more or less gravitates to you like metal to magnets.
What's sad is this: Married women and women in committed relationships have so much animosity and distrust and underlying fear at heart of cougars, and the feeling is just not reciprocated. Ladies, we don't want your husbands and we don't want your boyfriends. Sometimes a pair of shoes is just a pair of shoes and a trip to the grocery store is just a trip to the grocery store. I doubt we can shake the cougar label, but I have to tell you....on the whole, we're hardly terrifying, and we're truly not out there laying traps for men. More likely we're home remodeling a bathroom or rethinking our investment portfolio.
Now, with that said, I am off to run errands. That's what's going on.
But one more for the cougar observers: I'm off to sneak in the back window of my neighbor's house, shamlessly and recklessly have my way with her husband, then hit the local frat house to see if I can't snare some entertainment for this evening....
Cougar as in, wild, uncontrolled animal, basically a predator at heart. If she had a heart that is, and she does she's just so busy prowling for younger men (or other women's husbands) that she doesn't let it cross her mind much. There's no room in her mind for anything to cross, the space being absorbed by her plans, schemes, and complex designs on younger men and other women's husbands.
Let's observe a cougar in the wild, according to this popular mythology...
She's at a bar, with friends. They're all having wine and talking. This is what's going on. What cougar watchers see is this: She is at a bar with friends. The friends are talking. The cougar is listening but she's not let her eyes leave that college kid three tables over since he walked in the door. When she leaves she will grab him around the neck, drag him to her car and shamelessly take him home to have her way with him.
The cougar goes shopping for shoes, and clothes. She takes a married girlfriend along. Here's what's going on: They both want new shoes, and new clothes. They'd like to look their best in the office. Here's what cougar observers see: The married woman is shopping for shoes and clothes to look good for her husband, and also because she wants to look her best in the workplace. The cougar is shopping for shoes and clothes and could care less about either. She's only there to scope out the nineteen year old in men's shoes and purchase something that will make it even easier for her to swoop down on her unsuspecting prey in the office and ruthlessly drag them away from existing girlfriends and wives to her lair, where she will shamelessly have her way with them.
The cougar does well at work. The married girlfriend does well at work. Here's what's going on: They both have strong work ethics and want to excel in their fields. Here's what cougar observers see: The married girlfriend excels at work because she has achieved a remarkable balance between work/home, managing to take care of her house and husband and still make time for career. The cougar excels at work because obviously, she's sleeping with someone who makes the decisions.
A cougar and a married woman go to the grocery store. They both buy steak, potatoes, a French pastry dessert, and stop off at the wine store afterward for a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc that's been advertised on sale. Here's what's going on: They would both like to have a nice dinner, watch a great movie on HBO, and enjoy a glass of wine. Here's what cougar observers see: The married woman is making a romantic meal for her husband, keeping the spice in her relationship. The cougar is laying a trap for that night's unsuspecting pizza delivery boy who will be grabbed around the neck, forced into her lair, and plied with wine, French pastry, potatoes and beef until she has shamelessly and recklessly had her way with him.
You can see my point. No matter what we're doing we're damned from the outset. Even something as innocuous as getting our hair colored. Are we trying to cover the gray, or are we trying to look even younger so as to better accost, kidnap,molest, and otherwise wrench away young men from the women they should rightfully be with?
When I was married, I did the same thing I do now: Being somewhat of a chatterbox, I 'yuck it up' with everybody, male or female. Nobody thought anything of it and neither do I. Now if I have a conversation longer than two minutes in duration with anyone who pees standing up, I have an inquiry from a co-worker about if there's, "something going on there". Yes, I want to say, there is: A conversation.
Here's my take: The whole cougar thing is a myth. A cougar is nothing more than your average young single woman with a couple of exceptions. As it was put so well in Fried Green Tomatoes, she's older and she has more insurance. We're no more trolling than anyone else, and if we look younger than our counterparts did thirty years ago, blame better vitamin technology, fabulous and affordable facial products, and just a general loosening up in overall philosophy about age. There's an old advertising jingle, something along the lines of, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." I'd like to re-write that on behalf of women everywhere who are over thirty-five, single, and not living out of a shopping cart (aka Cougars): Don't hate me because I'm independent and unconcerned whether you find me beautiful or not. If we attract men who are frightened by younger women, it's because we're not trying to attract them. We're too busy with our own lives, and as we all know, once you stop looking for something it more or less gravitates to you like metal to magnets.
What's sad is this: Married women and women in committed relationships have so much animosity and distrust and underlying fear at heart of cougars, and the feeling is just not reciprocated. Ladies, we don't want your husbands and we don't want your boyfriends. Sometimes a pair of shoes is just a pair of shoes and a trip to the grocery store is just a trip to the grocery store. I doubt we can shake the cougar label, but I have to tell you....on the whole, we're hardly terrifying, and we're truly not out there laying traps for men. More likely we're home remodeling a bathroom or rethinking our investment portfolio.
Now, with that said, I am off to run errands. That's what's going on.
But one more for the cougar observers: I'm off to sneak in the back window of my neighbor's house, shamlessly and recklessly have my way with her husband, then hit the local frat house to see if I can't snare some entertainment for this evening....
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