Andy Lien

Online dating metformin er 500mg weight loss takes too much energy.  I’ve decided to take myself off the grid for a while.  A friend posted a story from MSN this morning on Facebook and I found it quite empowering:  “Why Women Over 30 Are Sexy.”  You can read it yourself or settle for my synopsis that it was basically four of the writer’s friends assuaging her age-related dating fears.  The four men she consulted would not prefer to talk to dewy twentysomethings over knowledgeable thirtysomethings.  Hallelujah.  Or, perhaps, it was that they would also talk to thirtysomethings as well as twentysomethings…I think it could be taken both ways with a definite difference in rhetoric between the two.  The reasons given were that the guys are over thirty, too, so it works well that way; older women aren’t so idiosyncratic and unrealistic about the ideals, compromises, ebbs, and flows of relationships as younger women; and older women know they’re not perfect but are still more comfortable in their own skin…which is sexy.

Excellent.  I can’t wait to nab me one of these guys–particularly the 26-year old from Minneapolis who said that “Crow’s-feet can be sexy.”

I’m tired.  I was misleading you when I mentioned a few posts ago that I’ve been actively dating for ten years…it’s been more like eight, I think, which is nothing to sneeze at.  Come to think of it, it was the night of Valentine’s Day, 2001, when my friend Leah and I posted our first online personal ads.  We were twenty-three years old, oddly giggly, and anticipating something of a landslide, I think.  That, suddenly, by putting ourselves out there, suitors would be coming out of the woodwork just upon finding out that we exist.  That’s why we were single–the lovers of the world just hadn’t learned of us yet.  In fact, we’d been doing the men of the world a great disservice by keeping ourselves secret.  Shame on us.

So, I think Yahoo! Personals was our online dating vehicle of choice that night.  Since then, she gave a rebuff to the online personals and joined a volleyball league through which she met her husband…and I’ve been on match.com, eHarmony.com, Yahoo! again, okcupid.com, theonion.com (for guys with that special kind of sense of humor) craigslist.org, and datingcurves.com (for Big, Beautiful Women).  Eight years of getting hopes up and trying not to be unrealistic, usually out-fumbling myself.  Upon reading the short article this morning about why I’m so sexy, I liked hearing that thirtysomething women know what they want and are more comfortable being themselves.  I took that and ran because I finally noticed that, though sometimes fun and flattering, I don’t like online dating.  It’s an expensive distraction.  A preoccupation.  A broken record player.  It’s not fulfilling.

And, any self-respecting thirtysomething woman wouldn’t do what she doesn’t want to do…because we’re apparently so comfortable with ourselves that we realize we don’t have to do what we don’t want to do.  (Nod to Punkyseed.)

I’m not giving up on dating, I’m just going to take a break from trying to start things online.  Online dating adds layers and layers of etiquette and expectations to the equation that just aren’t issues upon meeting someone in person.  In person, instead any combination of sending “smiles,” messages over the dating site, real (fake) email addresses, phone numbers, Instant Messages, text messages, webcam sessions, or first-meetings in public places, there are two options: Keep walking or keep talking.  Nothing beats the face-to-face encounter, whether set-up or serendipitous.  And, as a person who relies heavily upon nonverbal communication, I’ve got much better things to be doing right now that filtering overgrown boys out of my inbox.

I will miss my profile, though.  How self-loving is that?  It took eight years to get it to this point and I like it so much that I hesitate to take it down.  My profile has evolved and aged with me.  I’ve kept a few of them from the past and they’re memoir-worthy for sure.  This current (past?) one is sort of a wish list, but moreso the beginning of a conversation.  So, instead of sharing it with all the interested fellows in Malaysia who keep sending me drop-down menu messages like “Where Have You Been All My Life?” (Um…Minnesota.), I’ll share it here with you.  Feel free to pass it on if you have someone who fits the bill…but also include my phone number.  My inbox is out of order.

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

About me: I can’t wait to get on with life…you know, the stuff that most everyone has gotten to, except for those of us trying to find it online. I am a friend to many and well-liked by most. I laugh. I’m older than my age. I’m fun and frolicky, but practice what I refer to as calculated spontaneity. My wardrobe is fairly conservative, but my politics are not (I can befriend people of different political beliefs, but probably wouldn’t choose to marry someone unlike myself). I’m conscientious…so I sometimes sweat the small stuff. I love “Army of Me” by Bjork as well as “La Pathetique” by Beethoven. I believe conditioner is important for proper hair care. I prefer bouquets to arrangements. My birthstone is a diamond. I’m a proponent of cremation (is that a bit maudlin for the online personals?). I believe in following the rules of decorum but also tend to make up my own rules as I go (see previous sentence).

About him: It may be a cliche, but I would love to find a guy who I want to wake up to every day for the rest of my life. I’m looking for one who’s got genes that, when spliced with mine, result in delightful and talented wunderkind (but, having my genes, will definitely give us a run for our money). Hopefully, he’ll have a family I’d happily trade mine for and he’d find mine to be suitable as well. He may be a musician or artist during the off-hours but have a dayjob that he loves…or perhaps he’s a musician or artist for his dayjob and crunches numbers on the side for fun. He’ll have friends of such quality that we’ll wonder if they were his or mine, originally. He won’t want to wait to tell me about his day and hear about my latest pondering or project. He might even attend church with me but, if not, will still tag along for Christmas and Easter. He’ll be a guy who I’d feel comfortable driving my car–with me in the passenger seat. He won’t mind that I’m switching up my tenses left and right in this soliloquy.

He’s a fellow who might also want to buy a house and renovate the heck out of it (including a space for a piano, a gourmet kitchen, a clerestory, an artist space, a library, etc.). He’d be a companion for the BWCAW or the Farmer’s Market. He loves the country and would consider either living there, having a second home there, or having a cabin…away from “it all.” He’ll be taller than me (I’m 5’10″) and live in the Twin Cities Metro Area…just for convenience’s sake. He’d offer to walk my dog when it’s too dang cold out but will smile when I bundle up and accompany him anyhow. He’s appreciative of my idiosyncrasies, finding them more endearing than annoying. He won’t campaign for me to roll up the toothpaste tube as I go–or he’ll buy his own darned tube if he minds that I squeeze from the middle.

Or, just some guy who’ll make me a participant in a dual-income household.

There.  That’s not such a tall order, is it?