Thursday, March 08, 2007

International Women's Day

So according to other a bunch of other blogs (who are far more on-top of all of the extra holidays out there) today is International Women's Day! I have no idea what the traditional methods are for celebrating this day -- take a foreign woman out to lunch, learn how to say "woman" in every language possible, use some sort of foreign tampon for the day -- but I decided to use today as an excuse to test a theory.

"What if," I thought to myself, "the mistake I'm making here is looking for the right man, when the right woman might be out there just waiting for me?"* So fresh an idea was this that I convinced myself that I'd do a search for a woman on and I'd find her sitting right there. Some fresh-faced beauty with the eyes and the face and the other things (nudge, nudge) and she'd be all single and smiley, as chicks are sometimes likely to be, and I'd be the ultimate V-8 guy -- head-thwacking with a "what the heck was I thinking?"

So I made one small adjustment to the search on I hit the button and was all a-tingle with "what ifs!"

Turns out that the types of dudes you find with my particular search parameters are very much like the types of dudettes you find. (with, of course, some significant differences that I hope-a-hope-a-hope I don't have to explain? Our Bodies, Our Selves -- pick up a copy, people!) Everyone's either younger then me (so I'm all old, eh?) or older then me (have I given up too soon?), they just about all of them have kids, they just about all of them are either in much better shape then I (so I'm all fat, eh? OK, that one I already knew...) or in much NOT better shape then I. But in all that there was nobody that spoke to me. No Mrs. Right. Here I sit, rightless again.

I admit that this was another crushing blow of reality on its own. When added to the other rejections I've received via (they came and went and I had nothing new to say about them so I didn't mention them here) I start to feel all sorts of blue. Where, I ask you, are my easy solutions? My quick fixes? My instant gratifications? The desire to give up sometimes gets pretty thick, y'all. (sorry, channeling Brittany for a sec.) Seriously (sorry for that too) I feel so much older then I am when I do this stuff, and I am so aware of what I look like and how loud and pushy and overwhelming and obnoxious I am when I have to worry about how others might perceive me. When I'm on my own I'm OK with me, but when I look at myself through the glasses of a perspective other I feel like rejecting me too! "Maybe," I think, "it's time to start looking for that terrorist bomb that's supposed to be more likely to blow me up."

And then I get this email from a chum who, though not that close to me, is very much like me:
"I don't know if Mom has passed the word onto you or not yet but I thought I would let you know that I've recently become engaged. He's a great guy. Lives and works in . Computer programmer. Funny and has a cute dog - Aussie Shepard. No details yet on when and where the wedding will be but we'll figure it out."

And the other thing she said to me, without her knowing it, was "don't give up hope quite yet."

So Happy International Women's Day, and Happy Wove, Thursday to one and all. Those who don't have it and could use the hope, and those who have it and have the hope to give.

*any heebies and/or jeebies experienced by anyone at this point is anyone's business but mine. Y'all will have to work that out for y'sef!

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