Thursday, December 9, 2010
I was out doing some good ol’ multi tasking. Social interaction with friends and Christmas shopping. Popping in and out of stores not really task oriented, just getting ideas. And picking up some things, mostly for myself, along the way.
The sweater that my friend held up was cute. But not for me. There were several things standing in the way of it ‘being for me’. One was it was pink. I don’t do pink. Secondly, cascading down the front was a plethora of sparkly sequins. I don’t do sequins. And third, it was cropped. I don’t do cropped.
As she stood three exclaiming how purrrrfect this would be to wear to a holiday party “with grey straight leg jeans tucked into over the knee boots” I wondered how well my friend really knew me. I mean, I’ve known her for years, but did she really know me?
Grey jeans? Me?
Tucked into boots? Over the knee high boots at that.
I don’t think so. The only thing that was me about that sweater was that it was a cardigan. I do do cardigans. But they must be rather classic in style and usually in shades of gray or black. Pink? Um, no.
Over the years I’ve met many a person that has claimed “Oh Nancy, I know you.” Some really do and some might think they do, but they really don’t. Perhaps my friend saw in that sweater a Nancy that she thinks that I should be. Pink sequins? In her eyes am I really a pink sequin donning girl?
I have a friend who wears color well. Everything that I’ve ever seen her in is brightly colored or printed. And it looks great on her. The more embellishment the better. She can pull it off. I on the other hand would feel as if that embellishment was wearing me. My style is low key, laid back, no color and classic. Delving into the dating world I question the good sense given by magazines for ‘date night dressing.’ Is this where I’m going wrong? Do I need to take their advice and wear a red dress when out on a first date as opposed to my black turtleneck or white non-iron French cuff shirt?
Is that what is expected of me? Is that what men want?
I find reading such things as I wait for my manicure to dry ridiculous. Maybe it might be good advice for some young girl who hasn’t quite found her own sense of style yet, but I find dressing in a manner unlike you to be somewhat absurd. What if I did show up for a first date in a red dress. Perhaps my date would like that kind of low cut style and color. But that’s not who I really am. So who have I fooled? Myself? Him? Would I now need to change my entire wardrobe and outlook on clothing in order to dress to impress? Do I really wish to attract a man with said red dress as opposed to the real me?
I like red dresses, don't get me wrong. Just in magazines or on other people. It’s not who I am. Or at least the me who I have always thought I was.
I’ve been trying in these past few months to do things outside of my norm. I went out to eat the other night just by myself. I used to travel to Cincinnati quite often for work. I would stay in a hotel downtown. Once the store closed I would go to one of the nice restaurants in the square and enjoy a good meal before retiring for the night. There were groups of men after work, groups of females finished with their shopping and romantic couples at most of the tables. At the bar would be men on business sitting alone having a bite to eat. I would always ask for a table. It made me uncomfortable to saddle up to the bar by myself. Like I was there to pick someone up or something. Blame it on the movies I’ve seen, but my sitting at the bar alone all Sharon Stone-esque just isn’t quite my bag.
As I sat, alone, waiting for my meal I would hear others coming in. “A table for two, please” a man said with a girl hanging on his arm. Bah. She was wearing a red dress. Go figure.
I signed up for an internet dating site. They send daily ‘matches’. I read some of the profiles and then archive them. Some of the guys I don’t even read their profiles. One look at the picture they’ve uploaded to ‘attract their mate’ turns me off to the extent that I almost feel compelled to message them to let them know it’s not working. Really? That’s the best picture you can find or get your hands on of yourself? Tell me it isn’t so.
These poor souls. These saps. These losers…and I hate to say that, but it’s true. The main profile picture of one guy standing in his garden (ok, he works for a greenhouse…so I get the garden thing) in an ill-fitting t-shirt that shows off nothing except his beer gut. Or the guy that obviously set up his camera on his dresser in his bedroom to self timer, ran in front and put his leg up on the bed, elbow on his knee. Did he realize that his shoes were on the bed and he was in his socks? Did he take into consideration that the old floral bedspread that his wife or past girlfriend bought for him might not give off the ‘strong masculine’ ideal that his pose is trying so hard to present? Did he take into consideration that there was a cheap oval mirror in the corner of the room that reflected both his flat ass and the camera on the dresser that still held his wedding photo?
I don’t think so.
These aren't the men for me. How would I got 'matched' with them in the first place amazes me.
I didn’t message him. Although I should. Just to let him know. I figure that many people might not see all the detail in his photo, but I did. Can you say ‘archive’? Yup. As fast as my fingers could manage it.
I have met a couple of people through the site. A nice New Zealand man who plays professional squash. In Cleveland? Who knew such a creature existed? He’s got a nice smile and a tremendous accent. Is it a match made in heaven? No. I don’t see myself smiling in the photos of the log-in page with a ‘Nancy and Ray ~ matched November 2, 2010’ anytime soon. But to share a pint or two…sure thing. Larry was a nice man. Really nice man. But I just wasn’t attracted to him. And his familiarity in conversation wanting to make me dinner and rub my feet just kindof weirded me out. I mean if we were IN a relationship, sure. But I met you once for pizza. I don’t want to come to your home for a second date. His stories of others he’s met online were interesting, but they all made references to sex in some form or another. There was one where the woman posted photos of herself that turned out to be at least 20 years ago. When he told her he felt duped, that he didn’t want to date her because he thought he was meeting the woman with the red hair, not gray…she said, “so do you just want to have sex then?”
Funny? Yeah…no, weird. Why do all your stories have sexual inneuendos to them. Sorry Larry, I don’t want to have sex with you. You’re a really, really nice guy and all, but no nookie from Nancy. Sorry.
I’ll keep looking. At least until my subscription runs out. I highly doubt I will renew. Although the photos and profiles thus presented have been highly entertaining. One guy in Strongsville seemed promising. We went through the question process. He was complimentary. He seemed to have his shit together and then when it came time for ‘open communication’ he just phoofed. Nothing. Gone. I could see that he would check my profile every few days or so…but I couldn’t mail him. I had to wait for his response and none was forthcoming. Every three days he would look at my profile, but he wouldn’t send a message. I found that odd. And slightly troubling. It made me feel sort of angry in a way as well. What kind of game was he playing? And if fact he was playing games…then would I want to meet him anyway? Perhaps he was in communication with someone else and waiting to see if that match panned out. That’s fine. That’s even cool for you Steven of Strongsville…but you know what, let me know! Just send a message stating that and guess what, I’d probably wait to see fi it worked out between you and if not, then lets have a glass of wine. Or coffee. But nope. Just lurking my profile page. So I closed him. Take that. Good luck to you, buddy.
Maybe I will buy that sweater after all.
But in black.
Maybe it’s time to break out some sequins and sparkle on my next pint with Ray. Who knows, maybe that hidden me that my friend seems to know should come out and play.
But I am not buying gray jeans.
Or tucking them into boots. Especially over the knee high ones.
I’ll save those for when I wear red.