Every once in a while, I come across a profile SO BAD that I can’t help but wonder if the person is serious. Is it some sort of social experiment? Is it some kind of joke? Is it a tongue-in-cheek loss to a bet in which the loser had to set up a dating profile– and it was executed in the worst way the loser could possibly imagine?
Between the randomized capital letters, lack of punctuation, and whining, I’m not sure if I the note about being funny is hilarious or horribly tragic.
WELL I AM name deletedI AM old enough to know better. IM INTO PUNK,ROCKABILLY, AND METAL MUSIC, I LIKE HOT ROD SHOWS, CARSHOWS, COMICS, MOVIES, OLD BIKES, I LOVE TO DRAW, I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY AGAIN IS THAT TO MUCH TO ASK??? I HAVE BEEN SINGLE FOR OVER 8 F@#KING YEARS, I AM CLEAN, NEVER BEEN IN ANY KIND OF TROUBLE, NEVER BEEN TO JAIL OR PRISON,
What I’m doing with my life
OK, 1 TRYING TO GET A NICE PRETTY, SMART, GIRLFRIEND, BEEN HURT TOO LONG AND NEED TO FEEL LOVE AGAIN……
Here I am adulting again–or attempting to. The latest pursuit? Finding living arrangements I can afford on my meager hourly wages.
The prospects aren’t pretty, but I’m far more likely to find a better job if I’m closer to where the better jobs ARE (While still remaining close enough to my current job to have a reasonable commute HERE, because let’s face it, I need to plan according to the job I HAVE and not the one I HOPE to have).
The answer to every twenty-something’s accommodation-finding dilemma?
Craigslist, of course!
Yesterday, my older sister completed a half marathon. I am incredibly proud of her and in deep admiration of her healthy choices and commitment to physical fitness.
(She’s the one in light blue–isn’t she lovely?)
Every day, it seems, pictures are cropping up in my Facebook newsfeed about marathons completed, Tough Mudders conquered, miles logged on a daily jog, etc.
Running seems to be the it thing these days—that thing that all the cool people do… The thing that all the healthy people do.
And I want to be motivated enough to run. Really, I do. But it seems like the only running I ever do is a) from my problems or b) in the opposite direction of spiders. (And that is generally a short-lived effort at best).
Running (Nay—athleticism in general!) is just not my thing. But I feel excessively guilty about this. (Don’t ALL single twenty-something’s have a gym membership?) I briefly considered naming my bathroom Jim. That way, instead of going to the John first thing every morning, I could say I go to the Jim.
But semantics aside, I lack the motivation to turn thinking about wanting to run into actually—you know—running.
But different strokes for different folks, right? Some people are the spinach and kale type while others are more the pizza and ice cream type. I had always classified myself as the pizza and ice cream type until today.
Alas, this morning, I realized that even ICE CREAM, when left out for too long, runs more than I do.
It might be time to re-evaluate my life decisions.
Until then, If you ever see me running, you should probably start running, too, because chances are, something scary is chasing me.
Been there. Done that. Never bought the t-shirt because–let’s face it– I’m way too cheap for souvenirs that aren’t at least figure-flattering, but I COULD have had I wanted to.
I get it. You’re looking for someone else–Someone smarter, prettier, lower maintenance, higher maintenance, thinner, curvier, funnier, less cheesy, more graceful, more gracious, more assertive, more compliant, more ambitious–whatever. You discovered that you wanted something different; and I’m just not what you’re looking for.
And yet, regardless of what you seek, I am what you found.
Recently, there has been a slew of searchers who, in their quest to obtain something else, have found me.
And it’s been hilarious.
Below is a sampling of the terms we’ve come through:
Perhaps, in general, I wouldn’t mind being prompted to consider my password security (not that password strength matters much in this era of leaked tax information, heart bleed, and whatever this newest IE endangerment is that gives nefarious ne’er-do-wells complete access to your computer just by visiting an innocuous-appearing website).
And perhaps a poster compelling me to examine all facets of having a strong password is an upgrade from graffiti or crude remarks. But honestly, the last thing I want to think about while I’m sitting on a toilet is the strength of my electronic pass-codes. (Don’t quote me on that. I’m sure there are things I would rather not think about more than I would rather not think about passwords, but passwords are extremely low on the list of things I WANT to think about at all–much less in that particular venue.)
I’m truly grateful that my employers are concerned for my online security, but my powder room ponderings are really nothing they ought to meddle with.