Why the Long Face?

Every once in a while I get a hit on the computer dating site I can't seem to quit no matter how hard I try. Ironic, I suppose. One site won't let me on, and one just won't let me off. Maybe it's meant to be, although I have yet to see any evidence that anyone close to "the one" exists in this particular cyber universe.

To protect my very fragile ego, I try to interpret all comments from potential suitors as complimentary, no matter how odd or ambiguous. Yesterday, some guy sent me an email saying "hmm, you look taller than five foot three." Hmm, I'm not sure what it was about my head shot that clued him in to my modest untruth about my height (on a good day, I'm five foot three and a half). But I decided he must have detected something sexy and lithe about my look, and it wasn't that I have a long, drawn, tired looking face which might suggest a long body to go with it. Self esteem is my middle name.

The good news about this winter is that it's helped my usually long face to puff out a bit. Every day, my cheek bones become more deeply immersed in cheeks made fleshy from cookies and kettle cooked chips. Honestly, I don't know how the Potato Heads managed to stick to their diets this season. The cold and dreariness has dragged on for what seems like forever, and I find myself munching on comfort snacks for hours every day just to pass the time. Even my sweats are starting to feel a bit snug. The good news is I'm not heading for a beach vacation this spring break, so I don't need to face the horrifying prospect of a bathing suit.

But it's March, and just as the temperatures will inevitably rise, my husband's anorexic botox queen attorney will inevitably not cancel a meeting one day, and lord knows when I meet her for the first time I don't want to look like a frump. I've gotten over the narcissist thing, but if she starts calling me a chubby narcissist, I might lose it. I'm going to start adding some physical activity to my daily routine, like dating. Get your minds out of the gutter folks; I am not talking about sex. I am talking about the great amounts of energy I will have to expend just showering, putting on make up, and squeezing my potato ass into jeans. My version of running a marathon.

I think I'll start with the guy who expects that my long face comes with a long body. Might as well push myself with an insurmountable challenge right off the bat. I'm not all that concerned with his reaction, having checked out his picture. Closer to court jester than prince of my dreams.

As the pounds melt away, I'll be able to add other, more rigorous, and far more satisfying forms of exercise, like shopping. Sure beats the crap out of dating.