Month: August 2010

2 Cents + 2 Cents =

A facebook acquaintance had an opinion about my new profile. Here it is, interspersed with my thoughts as I read it:

Amy,
I know that this is completely unsolicited and that, coming from me, it probably doesn’t mean much, but I actually preferred your last Match profile entry.

Well…from what I’ve seen, you’re not an Olympic dater. I mean, you’ve told stories and blogged about your lack of success with women…But no, no, have at. I want to hear it. I like feedback.

For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t recommend opening with the line about never buying your partner gifts. Even if true, that seems to be a disclosure that can be saved for the second date.

Yeah? I think it’s kind of funny. And it is true. I’m a terrible gift-giver.

Sure, with most guys, it will be easily overcome, but at least from my way of thinking, it doesn’t come off as an endearing quality. It makes you seem insensitive, uncaring, and/or disinterested in a serious relationship and I don’t think that’s how you want to come off, and from what little I know about you, I don’t think that’s true.

Really? Insensitive, uncaring…you don’t think that’s true? Clearly you don’t know me, because that describes me perfectly. Douche.

I also think that your line about exceedingly photogenic and “taking your photos with a grain of salt” could be misinterpreted at worst, and just isn’t necessary. For pity’s sake, you make it sound like your photos have been airbrushed! Don’t downplay your looks! You’re not chubby, you’re a normal sized woman; you’re just not anorexic. And, if I can say so without sounding like I’m hitting on you, you are an attractive woman at that.

I’m not a fucking normal-sized woman. I’m a fat person. Also, see how I hyphenated ‘normal-sized’? I did that because it’s used as an adjective. And yes, because I’m pissed off, I’m going to nitpick your grammar. Because it makes me feel superior.

Don’t tell guys your pictures look better than you actually do.

Don’t tell me what to do.

It’s not true, and sends the wrong message. And don’t put the image of a troll in their head (even if you say you are at least a bit more attractive then one).

You mean ‘than’.

Think of this as an interview where you want to sell yourself, not a disciplinary review board where you have to make excuses for yourself. Be positive about yourself. Don’t give guys an excuse not to date you; let them decide if they aren’t interested.

Oh, is that what it is? Somewhere I want to sell myself? You mean, I should try to make people like me? I didn’t realize that. Because I’m only 34 years old.

You’ve got a lot going for you. You are funny, charismatic, caring, and charming… and you like NPR. How can you go wrong with that line up? Go with your strong suits, and I’m sure you’ll find the guy of your dreams.

Yes, I am all those things, and yes, I do like NPR. You can’t go wrong with that line-up, so shut the hell up and let me do my thing.

I know that was unsolicited and possibly unwelcome, but I just wanted to give you my 2 cents.

No, hey—thanks.

[The thing is, (1) he said an awful lot of nice things in there, but I couldn’t hear them because I become a seventh grader in the presence of unsolicited criticism. And (2) he’s right. I’m not selling myself in this profile. I’m under-selling myself. And why would I want to do that? Perhaps because I’m so fucking ambivalent about this whole prospect. Or because I’m terrified a guy will pull up to our first date and go, “Whoa whoa whoa. No.” Or maybe because I kind of want nobody to email me so I won’t have to go through this shit again.]

De Oppresso Liber

I joined CrossFit a week or so ago. Do you know about CrossFit?

It’s a gym. Most importantly, it’s a gym on the same block as my workplace. But it’s not like other gyms. CrossFit is all about push-ups and pull-ups and squats and turning over tractor tires. Yeah, I don’t get that last one either.

Anyway, the trainers are all very strong people. I was helped yesterday by (let’s call him) Brutus, a very muscly fellow, with a cartoony-handsome face, a great deal of patience, and a tremendous knowledge of how to lift heavy objects over your head. Brutus looked like he could pick up my Subaru with his neck.

We were doing the clean and jerk. Do you know how many steps there are to the clean and jerk? If you guessed two, you’re wrong, wrong, my friend. There’s eleventy-four tiny steps to the clean and jerk. And Brutus knew every last one. Intimately.

Well, I did about 75 of them, or parts of 75 of them, albeit with a paltry 15-25 pounds on my bar, but fuckin-A, bubba, I kinda teared up at the end there.  I was so exhausted and proud of myself.

My favorite part was when we were stretching out. Brutus, the could-pass-for-special-forces guy, got us into upward-facing dog and told us, “Try to relax your tummy.”

Tummy. Hee hee.

The Puppet Show

This afternoon, as I was drawing lines of longitude and latitude on the board, and the kids were taking notes, Mack said, “Could you MOVE?”

To me.

This is how this group of kids talks to each other and to me. And you know, I’ve had conversations about speaking politely and treating others the way you want to be treated and using school-appropriate language, tone, and volume.

Nothing.

So when he said that, I pulled out my most caricaturish polite voice and said:

“Amy (the kids call us by our first names at this school), would you mind taking two tiny steps to the left so I can see the fascinating lesson you’re demonstrating on the board and I can write all this interesting stuff down? If you could do that, that would be wonderful. And by the way, you’re such a great teacher. I appreciate all that you do for us.”

He looked at me like I had stuck a fist up my nose.

But.

But.

Later on, I heard some of the kids saying to each other during the read aloud, “So-and-so, would you mind sitting back down? It’s hard for me to see the pictures when you’re up in front like that.”

Wow. Modeling works. If it’s ridiculously over the top. When I told her about this incident, my friend Sam called it “the puppet show”.

Yes. Something that works.

I’m a Blogger. I Blog.

The Ex and I have been playing with the website. He showed me how to change the banner color (Oooooh, magenta! Ooooh, fading into black!) and the visibility of certain posts. Sometimes I’ll put up a “protected” entry and give out the password on Facebook and/or by request.

He also added social sharing buttons so my legions of readers can easily share links to my exquisite prose.

I’d really love for somebody with graphic design know-how to make me a dope-ass banner…anyone?