Thinking Inside the Box

You kind of know the day is going to be rough when you spend fifteen minutes outside at 4:30 in the morning in your pj's and boots searching frantically for your dog, who is already back inside (because you already let him in). Top it off two hours later with a jaw dropping phone call from an international jetsetter hubby and you might as well dip into your emergency stash of anxiety meds and crawl under the covers.

But not this bird. A little shaking and hyperventilating isn't gonna stop me, so off I went to face the day -- a little yoga, a little writing, a little eating, a little shopping. It's tough being this busy and important.

I get the feeling I'm not the only one in town who's a little off kilter these days. Maybe it's the excitement of the holidays. Maybe it's the cold. Maybe it's just plain boredom. Whatever the reason, there has been a flurry -- or, for fans of yesterday's quasi-secret post, a McFlurry -- of activity on the cyber dating sites. Maybe that's because everyone feels too fat and pasty for anything other than virtual contact. It's odd chatting with people when you know they're looking at a carefully selected picture of the most elegant you and you're sprawled on the couch with your bloated belly pouring over your sweats and yellowish brown stains in the pits of your old white tee shirt. Hot!

But a social life is a social life, and sometimes -- most of the time -- it sure beats zipping up those tight jeans. So I was mortified when I got an email today from one of my favorite cyber buddies telling me we could not longer be buddies, because the cyber computers had sent him the profile of his perfect match and he was smitten. It was only after I read excerpts of the profile and saw the picture that I realized my buddy was joking, and our long awaited lunch date at Super Dog would indeed become a reality. The day was lookin' up.

Here are some snippets, from the pen of the woman of his dreams: she does not think outside the ubiquitous box (what the fuck does that mean?), high heels and sexy clothes flatter her body (I didn't know shoes and clothes could talk), she's high maintenance and proud of it (honesty is hard to find), and perspicacious men knock her nylons off (where do I begin?). The picture did not disappoint. Here's a shocker -- the woman looks nuts! In the picture she's striking a pose that's supposed to be beguiling, I think, but she looks like she's taking a shit with her pants on. In the bathtub. Well not so much in the bathtub but on the edge of the bathtub. Kudos to her balancing there in her stilettos. In a bathroom full of mirrors. Now that's hot!

I'm not sure how this woman got to be fifty-eight without anyone snapping her up, but maybe too many folks are just too stuck outside that ubiquitous box to get it. I think I might crawl inside, get some perspective.