today's topic: people

permit me to make fun of online dating again. so there's this guy who sends me what's called an icebreaker on yahoo. what it really means is i'm too cheap to sign up to write to you (so don't expect i'll pay for a date) but i can send you this lame-ass message with options of pickup lines that are so bad you'd tell all your friends about them next monday morning at work.

anyhow, so this guy's header is: "real man desperately seeking real woman". and it shows a nice picture of him in a car, with a scared, pissed-off look on his face, looking like he's just been told he will now be a crash-test dummy. so let's just see what this is all about.

the real man part -- what would you be otherwise? a fake man? a wuss? a wimp? bi? or an invisible man?

the desperately part -- what part of the word desperate do you think is attractive when it comes to dating?

the real woman part -- are you looking for size 10x? (for you mainiacs, that means shade in the summa, and warmth in the winta) or definitely not a transgender woman? what makes a woman real? and why would you need to state a "real" woman as opposed to what? a blow-up doll?

and these people wonder why online dating doesn't work for them. seriously, i should offer my advice services for a fee because i've been told numerous times i appear normal and that seems pretty rare. oh well. no wait, why would i improve the competition? i much prefer to laugh at them.

ok. so on to another topic. beauty and aging.

you only have to look at my mom to know that you can age with dignity and beauty and vitality. i saw another woman that proves that last night. i was walking down state street on the way back from pilates (and ooh, la la, did i ever feel good!) and this distinguished woman with perfectly coifed red hair stepped out of a taxi and waited for her man to pay the bill (smart woman ;). she's dressed in a long blue dress, that modestly splits up the front, and is wearing a beautiful pin. every beautiful red hair is in place and swept up in a sort of chignon perhaps, and her makeup is impeccable. i decide i have to tell her something. so i stop and walk back to her and tell her...you look LOVELY! i don't know where you're going, but i wish i were going there! to my happiness, she looked very pleased (i wasn't sure if she was going to be a british snob) and said oh, thank you very much.

i just know i made her night.

you see, i love telling other women when they look good. for one thing, that really counts. men seem to think i look good in the middle of doing my laundry--which is no doubt true. however, women know when you really look good and you don't forget compliments from other women. especially if they're strangers, and also beautiful, like myself. ok, ok. i am getting a little vain here, but this song IS about me, damn it. ;)

so i now find myself wondering, like princess di, will i be able to age with beauty and grace and find myself full of more character and class every year? somehow i think so. it seems to be working so far...and just look at the good genes i came from! yes, chances are...