Writing my Match.com Dissertation

Following “Big Decision for the New Gal in Town….”    I attacked my match.com profile with the exuberation of a teenage girl shopping for her first prom dress combined with the writing expertise of an Oxford english PhD student composing a dissertation.  This profile HAD to transcend “good”….In southern terms, my mission was to “git ‘er done.” My pale tulle pink manicured fingers started moving at warp speed as I chugged a vodka/cranberry (with extra lime) and set out on my match.com man-finding mission.  The words transcended out of my blonde brain into seamless comedic prose on a computer screen.  Glancing at my pictures, I made sure to include a wide assortment…close-ups, body shots, me chillin’ on beach chair (bloody mary in hand), moi hiking a 14-er (a must for Denver, Colorado men).  After all – I was well-rounded woman, and wanted to secure it was obvious I could tackle outdoor activities in a single bound.  I even threw in a photo of my lovely pooch…to prove I could live in peaceful harmony with dog hair…

I typed with a vengeance….the desk light glowing in my corner living room office.  If only the neighbors in ritzy Cherry Creek knew little ole’ Leaza was on the brink of something big…something that could change her life — and hopefully someone else’s…completely.  If anything, this would at least provide hours of free entertainment giggling with girlfriends.  My mouth salivated at the thought of laughing hysterically, comparing horror online dating stories and trying overzealously to outdo each other.  Pathetic, yes.

An hour into my pulitzer prize winning challenge, I stared at the giant icon labeled “Profile Complete.”  This was THE moment.  The moment where my words…and my pictures….transmitted themselves to possibly hundreds of available men in the Denver/Boulder area.  I imagined myself…Leaza…as a mass blonde mailing…except instead of ending up in an outdoor mailbox, I would land in someone’s virtual one.  I felt as if I was taking a leap of faith….  I giddily scanned my profile for any last minute changes…exhaled, “What the hell?” — then cautiously moved my mouse over “Profile Complete.”  Folks…it was time to start this mission.  I prepared for the adventure…and clicked…sending my profile to the gods at match.com.  I prayed for Zeus to intercede, quickly wondering if I would land in heaven, hell, or god-forbid, gulp, limbo.

Tags: online dating

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