Almost begrudgingly, I have re-instated my dating profile this week.
I am less than a week in to it and already I want to hang myself from the nearest rafter.
It just makes me want to swear.
We have been talking about swearing at work this week. I swear a lot. Obviously these outbursts have to be contained, as I am a professional and there is a time and a place for these things, but sometimes I just have to shut myself in a room and have a little shit, cunt, bollocks session. It helps. I swear. 😉
Now though there is talk of a swear box!
The suggestion is that every time we swear we put in some money (I will be penniless in just two days), then at the end of however long, we all go out for drinks on it (this will be a fine-free event, I hope). I suggested, I might as well carry on swearing and just pay for the drinks at the time because it will largely be all my money in there anyway. The chances of me making it to Friday and not uttering at least three fuck’s, several bastards and a lazy cunt, is probably around 4,000,000 to 1.
Online dating does not help!
All these months later what, in theory, should be a relatively simple process, is still one of THE most time-consuming and counterproductive things I have tried to date.
This is largely due to my own lack of patience, where these things are concerned, I am not one for small talk and neither am I one for saying shit I don’t mean. I will also tell you if you annoy me, I can’t help it and despite the fact that you think we are a match made in heaven after only having looked at my picture and quickly skimmed through my profile, I am yet to be convinced.
Men and women are still very much from different planets when it comes to relationships of any variety. This much is very clear, but we must have some common ground surely. Most people, male or female just prefer honesty, don’t they? Who wants to be led up the garden path or told things that are blatantly not true or schmoozed to within an inch of their lives? No-one.
While it is nice to receive a compliment, be gentlemanly about it and if you are not then please do not have the audacity to be surprised by the response you get back. While most online messages are usually initiated by a physical attraction to that person (we all know how it works, the lust thing), it will have to become more than that for you to get any further. I am all for a good-looking fella, but please be able to string a sentence together so we might have at least try some conversation before leading up to the inevitable.
However, let’s be fair here. It’s tough for the guy. I know that men must message hundreds of women and that most of the time it probably seems futile and tiresome, replies are few and women can be bitches, some of us anyway. I don’t know if I would have the stamina for it, should the boot be on my foot. Forever thinking up ways to catch a glimmer of interest, while us women sit on our haunches and wait to be dazzled! How flirty should you be? How charming? Just cut to the chase or go in gently?
Is there a right way? How can there be when we are all so different?
In the first instance we really don’t expect too much, something simple will do, but something that tells us that you are interested and something that tells us why. Don’t ask me what I am doing for the weekend and it is too late to ask me how my New Year was, my weekends are dull and I can lie with the best of them, but really, what is the point and my New Year, well, it came and went but it is over. Next.
I am not undermining how hard it must be to continually keep messaging the Hi, how are you’s and I realise we have to start somewhere, so it’s as good a place as any, but once we have said Hi, the gloves are off. The competition is fierce for you and for me and if it doesn’t flow or we keep talking endless drivel about weekends and how my day has been, we will both get bored, very quickly. Find out the things you want to know, what could be more interesting than that? If I ask you questions it’s because I am interested and because I want to find out if we are compatible or have things in common, surely you are trying to find out the same? Have I got this all bloody wrong, still?
Oh and you may or may not like this, but if you are a male under 40 and looking to date someone in their dotage (like me), then please do not think we will be flattered by your obvious assumption that anyone over the age of forty is sad and desperate. You are likely to find it is quite the opposite, as I politely informed fiftysheds, only yesterday.
I’m really only 32 BUT I PREFER OLDER WOMEN 😉
How does Fuck off! sound, I can say it in four languages, except Tosserian!
The funny thing is when I replied to his message I was actually quite nice, well nice for me, I answered his questions and thanked him for his compliment about my eyes, but I just couldn’t resist telling him his tagline was awful and in no way a compliment to any woman. He replied, quite quickly, to tell me I had lost his interest now. I was shocked! Clearly the old ones aren’t supposed to answer back. At this point I am swearing again. You see how this works?
I just don’t understand, why he feels it needs a formal announcement? Perhaps I am the one missing something here?
If you are 32 and you message a woman who is 46 believe me she knows you are 32, she also knows that you are probably not after conversation, but this is not the issue. The issue is that as adults, however old you are, you have the right to decide. If you want to hook up with a 32-year-old, feel free. I have and I enjoyed it immensely, but it didn’t come about because he was trying to get an older woman, he was looking for any woman, young, old, who cares, it is about the chemistry nothing else.
Whoever you are and whatever you are looking for, you can find it without making people feel like a bag of shit. Be honest yes, but be respectful. It is not too much to ask.
Well, I think I have got that off my chest!
Now for the other things that made me swear like an old navvy this week…
Tom and Elsie. More than enough said.
Life, in general.
This week in more work chit-chat, I discovered that apparently if you believe in the after-life (a highly debatable topic), you come back repeatedly until you have learned all of life’s lessons and feel you have nothing left to learn. Apparently this is your decision, according to local legend. It is this that has got me thinking, it has got to be unlikely hasn’t it? I mean, I couldn’t have chosen to do this surely?
I can imagine myself standing at the pearly gates contemplating my return. Should I come back as a world-famous inventor, creator? Or maybe a sensational singer/songwriter? A humanitarian, a campaigner for human rights? No, I will come back as a penniless, single mother of two, the struggle will do wonders for my tenacity. The lesson learned? Not to come back at all next time, thank you. I’ll sit on a cloud and ride the rest of my days out playing the harp, if it’s all the same to you.
On the parkrun/walk yesterday (yes we did it again, week 2), we came across two Magpies, much to the delight of my parkrun buddy. “Ooh, that’s lucky!” she exclaimed. “We should get a lottery ticket later.”
That same day, I smashed the glass hob on my oven. That’s really lucky isn’t it and even luckier since earlier in the week my washing machine broke! That is nearly all my kitchen appliances now, as if you remember the microwave exploded just before Christmas. So, just the fridge freezer to go now and we’ve got a full kitchen, of broken shit! I wonder which room is next?
Now tell me I should stop swearing!
Still, there is every chance I will meet the man of my dreams this week, so that will cheer me up no end.
Hold on … I said that last week, didn’t I?#rollingonthefloorswearinghysterically