By popular demand – a chorus of two – I am launching my blog.
Elly Takes a Stab at Relating a.k.a. Sex and The City without the City and, erm, without The Sex (so far. But this could get X-Rated). Oh, and with old people. Or, Mme Strangelove: or how I learnt to stop worrying and love the whole horrible hideous business of letting total strangers think I might conceivably want to bump uglies with them. Or maybe just Dating On A Dime – His.
You might ask, why would I want to do this thing – the blog, not the bumpy uglies stuff – and I would say, earnestly, because I have a self-destructive streak that will still be gloriously vital even after the nuclear holocaust and the ascent of the cockroach lords. Never mind that writing about the men one dates is the cardinal offense against the men one dates, the deal-breaker. (That, and weighing more than 60kg. So they tell me.)
However. I do find it helpful to monitor and keep a log of my eating disorder management program, so why not log my mating management program? Which reminds me… somehow I forgot to mention eating disorders in my RSVP Profile. How could that slip my mind?
You might also ask, why now (the bump uglies stuff, not the blog)? And that would be a good question. Suffice to say that earlier this week I caught myself in a dream attempting to flirt with two young men who were sharing a lunch table with me in what looked to be a campus canteen. And then I caught myself, in my dream, recognising that at ages 23 and 24 respectively, they were so not interested. And, they were dream wraiths.
Geelong is not known as Sleepy Hollow for nothing. There’s a lot of bed goes on in Geelong. And much of it, I’m certain, involves intelligent articulate decent males aged between 45 and 60 who are in that bed alone and just hanging out, so to speak, to be joined by a 52 year old penniless narky maladjust and her two Brittany dogs. (What’s that? I forgot to mention the dogs’ sleeping habits in my RSVP Profile? Truly, it must be dementia setting in.)
So it’s 24 hours in. 24 hours live, 24 hours active. Don’t those metaphors just resonate? 24 hours, and what have I done? Here’s the score:
I have rejected about a dozen probably perfectly harmless potential axe murderers, as graciously as the checklist responses permit. One of them showed up on the ‘Compatibility Meter’ as Compatibility – Very Low, with RSVP’s encouraging comment, “Erm… sometimes opposites attract?”
I have engaged in shameless display with one man whose RSVP handle is “Apollo 13” – so he’s either a god (Penny Lane, this is for you) or he’s disaster-prone. I am practicing Buddhist detachment and will not make a call on which.
I have scolded another man for providing insufficient information on his profile, so little that the Compatibility Meter threw its hands up; only to have him respond, generously, with a lovely, detailed account of his family and his life, completely at odds with the image his picture had conjured up of a self-satisfied wally with a drinking problem.
I have indicated interest to a man who promptly invited me to email him, which involves purchasing “Stamps”, which cost $10 each. Suddenly my interest plummeted.
How will I afford to date, when I can’t afford so much as a cappuccino? Another good question I hear you asking. I’ll work on it and come back to you…