I’m extremely honored to feature the wonderful Kim from Rubber Chicken Madness here today. She has a kind heart, a beautiful spirit, and is just the soul-baring kind of writer that we all need to have in our lives (and in our reader). She celebrates her imperfections on her blog and opens up about life as a single momma of two boys, a neurotic dog, and a rubber chicken. She recently signed up for Match.com and has been feeling disillusioned about the whole process. Well, she’s certainly come to the right place… I know we ALL have something to say on the topic so please read her words and leave some love!
“Online dating is just as murky and full of lemons as finding a used car in the classifieds. Once you learn the lingo, it’s easier to spot the models with high mileage and no warranty.–LAURIE PERRY, Crazy Aunt Purl’s Home Is Where the Wine Is
My friend DeeDee* and I are both currently subscribers to Match.com.
In fact, she and I shared most of a bottle of Chardonnay one night in July when we co-wrote my profile. That was also the night we decided it was a brilliant idea to drag my treadmill in from the garage to the master bedroom where I used it maybe five times before it became an expensive clothes rack again.
Perhaps entire bottles of Chardonnay + DeeDee and I are a bad combination?
No matter. She’s the one I turn to when I need some dating feedback/advice/venting whether Chardonnay is involved or not.
While the fact that she’s in the same dating pool I am is definitely a plus in many ways (she sees the ridiculousness of some of the profiles within the cesspool), it has the potential to be just a teensy bit weird.
Take for example, the guy that I went out with once a few weeks back. He was cute. He was sociable. He was also a felon. He showed up in her daily matches.
Fortunately, I had shared with her his history (and it’s not just that he was a felon, but a felon who targets women that is the real issue), and she moved on past him because she doesn’t need that kind of drama in her world either.
Or the very flirtatious text message sender whose online moniker I cannot remember. I told her that he was almost over the top with his texts, and she shook her head knowingly… she’d texted with him too.
It’s like we’re at a virtual frat party.
We both see a guy we like. And we’re in direct competition for his attention.
Reminds me of group visits to the nasty bathroom on the second floor of the frat house for a quick consultation that went something like this:
I like the one named Brad with the dark hair. Ohmigod, he’s adorable.
Oh, me too. Didn’t I tell you that he and I ended up at breakfast last weekend after… um…
No. You didn’t tell me!
And then the rule applies: you don’t date your friend’s leftovers.
Not a great situation for two good friends in their 40’s.
You also don’t want to get in the way of your friend’s opportunity for a match. What if she and I both like the same match? Then what?
Fortunately, we’re both mature enough to delicately determine whether the other one has an interest in any match that might be one worth exploring. And it’s also a blessing that we seem to like completely different types of men.
Mine = bordering on nerdy. Hers = not.
Surely, we won’t want the same one, right?
We can hope.
Or maybe we’ll find the love of our lives outside that cesspool?
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, or the not so innocent as the case may be.