It's my birthday on Tuesday and I won't feel a day over....well, err...shit....fifty....fuck....fifty...oh man, why me....four. This is not good.
But there it is. And in honour of having got here, I'm going to write my imaginary (that's i-m-a-g-i-n-a-r-y) profile for an online dating service. I did - you'll know if you've read my blog over time - I did this once for real, and it was funny, and short lived and not to be repeated.
But my profile got me a fair amount of attention - some wanted, a lot unwanted and some downright lesbian. 'You'll never get a date with your profile like that' wrote one lipstick femme who wasn't gonna look at me, the jeans, boots & T shirt butch, in any case. Photos of her tended to be at events where she looked three sheets to the wind, alongside other femmes with their heavily processed hair and an overweight faux-butch in a pale blue kummerbund hovering slightly out of focus, waiting perhaps to be chivalrous as one of our girls in tight dresses keeled over in her Steve Madden heels. The women I liked the look of online usually said 'no butches' as if we were a different breed. Which, come to think of it, I am proud to say, we are.
My imaginary online profile would tell you that I am conflicted, tormented, intense, capable of explosive rage, able to back down and apologize, unfailingly loyal, empathetic, patient, tolerant yet capable of being critical and judgemental, warm, affectionate, distant at times, aloof, fun in bed but need to get motivated, hard working yet broke, gifted, talented, funny, a good story teller, egocentric yet deferential, confident and scared as shit, gender challenged, stone butch, but totally cool with being a woman, I'm charming, insecure, reckless, brave, loving, on time, tend to my friendships as if they were new born kittens, impulsive, abused and adored as a kid, scared and respectful of my older brother, admiring of my 24 year old nieces, tuned in to what's new, street culture, smart, did I say critical, a dominant lover, disconnected from making money, a decent cook, hyper aware, with a stupidly busy brain, whose life tends to draw drama to it, and I would not know what it felt like not to be entirely engaged with my immediate world or the world at large. I'm sure I've missed some stuff out. Whatever makes you nervous, that's probably what I do.
Would you date me? Heck, I wouldn't. And probably Yahoo Personals, or Match.com or any of the others have a screening process where all those 'bad' words are eliminated before they agree to run your bio. At which point it reads " I am a mature successful woman who has done the work on my inner self and now am ready for the challenge of loving another woman fully. I live in an exquisite home and I make a lot of money (and we are signing a pre-nup anyway). I am an independent person who wants no drama and to be with a woman who wants to have fun, share candlelit dinners, go on lesbian cruises, can pay for her own meals, and doesn't make less that $75,000 a year. I have one dog, a bichon. No butches."
I'm not really bitter. I'm just not very sane, and I want someone to love me for exactly who I am. Is that so fucking unreasonable? I don't smoke or do drugs, I don't drink more than a couple of beers a week, I don't lie much, I tell the truth mostly, I'm crazy about my animals. But my life is a little chaotic. so what?
So, I don't get up and put on a costume to go play nice with the patriarchy in an office, I'm not real collegial, I don't tend to pay compliments much, or show physical affection in public, I don't like to go to lesbian events a lot, unless it's a reading or a slide show of my work (oops, that is so arrogant), but I will go sometimes, I hate disappointing people, I'm scared of expectations, I like to fuck just the way I like to fuck, I have loved incredibly deeply and will have trouble loving again, I'm a sodding mess.
I won't be dating online. I haven't just read a really good book, I can't tell you what my favorite TV show is because I don't watch, I don't like lesbian Super Bowl parties, in fact I don't really like khaki shorts no matter how good the legs.
I love good desserts, and unexpected turns in the road, and being able to give when and if I can. I love the sun, but not too hot, I listen to music constantly, can't stay away from the multiplex movie theatres, my Netflix list is way too long, I love being in the woods, I love Manhattan and London, I love physical touch, but sometimes I forget that I do, I am scared of my memories, I am terrified of complete darkness. I have a dark side. And most days I wake up in love with the light and the world and whatever furry thing is next to me.
54. Jeez. it's just not fair. Just as I am able to admit that I am a complete trainwreck, I might be too old to enjoy it. And don't forget, this was just an exercise in imagination....
Funny that you should write about match.com because I was just contemplating writing my own blog post about my experience there, or lack thereof, the past couple of months.
Alternative titles for my post are: Why Match.com Sucks Out Loud (for me) or Still Crazy After All These Years (does not match well with match.com).
I knew I was in trouble from the beginning when a profile question wanted to know what is my favorite color and my reaction was: "I don't know how knowing my favorite color could be any indication that you'd want to date me!"
Still, after skipping that question, I played along and set up a profile because I'm dumb that way. Too often, I like to please. It's my biggest fault.
After two months of futility, I've turned off my profile and canceled my membership.
I wish I would/could have just said: I'm still a bit loca. But I'll make you laugh. That's not much to go on, but it's a start.
By the way, I love unexpected turns in the road too.
I'm coming back tomorrow to wish you a proper Happy Birthday.
Posted by: Deb in Minnesota | July 23, 2007 at 10:00 AM
Hey Deb
And all who have called, e mailed and written about Pheelie - thanks for the thoughts. And Molly - wow, what an amazing phone message.
Posted by: Jill | July 23, 2007 at 10:46 AM
faults and all absolutely perfect..
Posted by: you know | July 23, 2007 at 06:13 PM
Happiest Birthday! I had no luck with dating sites. I tried them all. When you are gay and live in Boise Idaho you keep getting the same 7 lesbians at each site you sign up with. Most were not interested in a woman who didn't realize she was a lesbian until later in life. (44) They thought me a coward when really I was just lacking self awareness. Others thought I didn't "look" like a lesbian. And there was one who abruptly cut off communication when she learned that my favorite tv drama was Six Feet Under. Citing it to be over dramatic and unrealistic. When I inquired about her favorite show she said, "The L Word". hummmmmm I did finally get to know 2 women from Curve. One took me for $1700 and stole my photography the other backed out 2 hours before she was supposed to get on a plane to Boise. All in all, dating women has been harder than dating men ever was. But I sure do enjoy it more. :)
Again, Happy Birthday. 54 looks good on you. I like your self description. I think I might sit down tonight and get honest about my profile. Hitting delete of course before I publish. Take care.
nina
Posted by: nina | July 23, 2007 at 08:17 PM
Coming back to say HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JILL! Kitty sends greetings too.
Posted by: Deb in Minnesota | July 24, 2007 at 09:00 AM
"I'm not really bitter. I'm just not very sane, and I want someone to love me for exactly who I am. Is that so fucking unreasonable?"
Why no, it isn't. Happy B-day. I'll be 47(argggh) in 6 days. I'll think of you fondly as I hoist a brew in honor of being loved for who you are!
Posted by: Deborah | July 24, 2007 at 11:23 AM