Energized by my sleepy time fantasy dreams about random dudes and my friends tales of hot sexy times, this weekend I decided to take a quick monthly dip in the pool that is match.com. Its been a long time. Its starting to feel a bit like spring is on the horizon and it would be really nice to remember how a date goes before I hit 43.
Well either I ate the ugly cake over Christmas, or 42 really is unfuckable, because damn, I am not feeling the love this time around. In fact, I’m starting to feel a little rejection in this here hot tub of chubbiness.In fact, its been 2 weeks now and I’ve received 1 ‘wink’ (from someone in another state), and 1 email which said ‘hi’ (literally that was it) from a 60 year old.
WTF menfolk? Is 42 that gross?
Now if I were younger, more naive, a US Weekly reader or less self aware I’d think it was me. After all, what’s not to love about a short, tight, tattoo’d smart woman who errs on the side of sarcastic but who readily pays the bill, likes a good laugh and collects corsets? I don’t bite (unless requested), and I have been known to be an entertaining date, especially if you cut me off after the second martini.
Have I suddenly aged? Well looking in the mirror, it looks pretty much the same. I definitely haven’t grown any new chins, acne or had any botched lip implants.
Did I get fat? Well I did stop Crossfit (body parts were starting to lose their basic functionality) and take up spinning, but other than a slight decrease in the size of my ass (I miss burpees), it all looks the same.
Is my profile somehow repugnent? Well its the same one I’ve had since last year.. and it didn’t seem too horrific then.
And then it hits me… I now have short hair.
Nothing has changed except the addition of 1 year and the cutting of approximately 14 inches. So either 42 really is the cliff for dateable women, or I’ve run into what I’m horrified to admit… men don’t find short hair attractive. Well.. on me at least.
Which is a pity, because I sorta do. Its sassy. Freeing. Funky. And I never get helmet hair. But since my hair grows at a glacial speed anyway, its not something I can or will fix anytime in the near future.
Of course it could be more than the fact that average Colorado Joe likes his chicas with a little less sass and a little more blonde highlight. Maybe its broader..these guys want a little more of a conventional woman, with a more ‘normal’ approach to life. A ‘woo-hoo’ chick who you find wearing a Broncos jersey in a bar sipping on a Coors Light and laughing at all the guys jokes. Someone who loves kids and wants to play momma. I guess to an outsider what could be signs of youthful exuberance at 22 (tattoos, motorcycles, radical hair colors, mad passion), at 42 are probably signs of mental illness. I sort of get it. I guess my long highlighted hair ‘disguise’ helped me fake my way through more than few first dates. Without it.. well… its just me. And apparently, the Colorado dudes no likey me.
I could consider this karma for my deleting all those older dudes, chubbier dudes over the last few years. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so picky about his 3+ children under 10? Or that fact that he’d never been married at the age of 52 but still said he ‘definitely’ wanted kids? Maybe I should have been more thoughtful about my decisions and ….fuck it. I refuse to second guess or rewrite the past. It is what it is… and hey, if its my age, my personality or my hair.. its probably not meant to be.
On the bright side, I just filtered out 99.999999% of unsuitable dating candidates!
So, while my best intentions were to get back out there, heart on sleeve and Starbucks card at the ready.. it looks like the universe has other ideas. I might actually have to meet someone in the ‘real’ world.
Or maybe I need to invest in a long blond wig?