Argh. I’ve been super cranky and out of sorts lately. The fact that there are guys working RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW right now, like the one SAWING into the brick beneath my window mere FEET from my face doesn’t help. Neither does his singing. I mean, I’m glad he’s enjoying his job but he’s driving me crazy. The scaffolding they’re on has been there since the summer. Possibly before. I’m over it. The additional disturbance of the construction project that has started in the school yard right outside my BEDROOM window also has me on edge. Since it’s, you know, a school yard, they do their work during off hours. Like jackhammering at 9am on a Saturday. Or clanking around after dark. Ugh. That work is scheduled to go on for three years. THREE YEARS. I may lose my mind.
My general disgust with the human race has been exacerbated by the current “controversy” over Rubulad’s theme for next weekend. There’s even an article about it on Jezebel, muckracking for the millenials. Before Halloween this year, a bunch of youngsters made posters protesting the use of their “culture” as a costume. Never mind that anyone who’s been in America since they were born has, more or less, lost their “culture.” It’s just political correctness gone rampant. If I wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, am I ridiculing the Irish? Can I respectfully wear a garland of flowers in my hair and traditional Mexican/Scandinavian/Polynesian garb? Yes, plenty of people wear flowers in their hair. I’ve worn a dirndl. Is that okay? And is it okay only because the culture I’m co-opting is white? More or less okay if it’s actually MY culture? If we were to extrapolate this shit, no one would ever be able to dress as anything. Ever. I call bullshit. But people are outraged. OUTRAGED. Imagine anyone who isn’t of Asian descent putting chopsticks in their hair. Qu’el horreur! What about a fair isle sweater? Is that cool? Or do I need to be from a fucking fair isle? I suppose blue jeans are only okay for blue collar workers. EVERYTHING in this country was co-opted from someone. Including the fucking country. Deal with it. And preferably move forward.
Okay, enough about that shit. My other latest obsession is, no surprise, OKCupid. Since they were bought by Match.com the quality of the men on there has declined significantly. Not that there was a whole lotta quality to start with. Now, instead of a high percentage of quirky, cool-ish singles, I’m confronted by profile after profile of “God fearing” guys. “Easy going” and “laid back” men in search of their “soul mate” or “the one.” Listing God as one of the six things you can’t live without isn’t gonna work for me. And when I let these guys know that I’m not a God person, they seem baffled. Is the site now connected to Christian Mingle as well? Holy crap!
And while I’m on a tear, here’s a list of my top 10 deal-breakers. I know some of these are repeat complaints but I can’t help myself!
1. Photos of your motorcycle. Ditto on your sports car. I don’t give a shit how you get around town. And your mid-life crisis-mobile is embarrassing.
2. Photos of your kids. Let me get to know your offspring once I’ve gotten to know you, m’kay? Worse? A photo of you with your kids with their faces all blurred out. Creepy. Which leads me to…
3. Photos of you with someone blurred, blocked, scrawled over or cut out. Don’t post pix that are evidence of previous failures. Just don’t.
4. Photos of you in the bathroom. I don’t want to see your toilet. Blech.
5. Repeat pix. If you only have one photo, sure, that’s weak and perhaps you should get a few more. But posting the same photo four times doesn’t help much.
6. Nothin’ but selfies. Dude. Don’t you have ANY friends? Sure, one selfie. Six? No. No no no.
7. Lists of all the horrible qualities you don’t want. Nobody wants drama or baggage or anything else awful. But you’re over 40 and alone. So how about being a little more positive? Instead of proving to potential dates precisely why you’re still single. Ditto on divulging all the details on your divorce. That’s for, like, date #10. Or maybe #20.
8. Maybe take a few minutes to fill out the profile? No need to write a novel but more than a dozen words might give all us strangers just a tiny idea of who you are, what you’re looking for, what you enjoy, something? Anything? However, you can refrain from calling yourself “handsome,” “good looking” or “attractive.” I’ll be the judge of that, thankyouverymuch.
9. It’s pointless, I know, but PROOFREAD YOUR FUCKING PROFILE. Oh. And don’t use ALL CAPS. Ask a friend, “Are the commas in the right place?” DO YOU EVEN CARE? I suppose not… And lastly
10. No photo/photos of scenery/blurry photos/misleading photos/photos of you when you were 25. What the motherfuck? If we’re gonna meet in person, it will be immediately apparent that you’re bald. Or fat. Or not 6’2″. Or FUCKING 25! Just show your face. It’s not rocket science.