Fitting your round life into a square box.

Sunday, beautiful Sunday; time for coffee and toast, the paper, background music and scented candles. Time also to reflect on the first hurdle of online dating: completing the application! Over time I have been getting stray e-mails wanting me to join various dating services and I usually just hit the delete button. (I'm not really certain where things go when you delete them, maybe into some vast cosmic trash basket floating around in the internet universe.) Having experienced my epiphany in the parking lot(see my first post) and feeling brave, I clicked on the button for the service which I call "hookup".

This service advertises how they can find your perfect match based on their computer program of character traits, likes and dislikes, yearnings, hopes and maybe fears. They are also reputed to be a safe way to meet people since all the contacts are managed by their great computer in the sky. Why not! I began the process of completing their forms. Wow!

How do you compress 69 years of living into a computerized one form fits all? I enter and delete, sweat and say a few words, which if written would probably get me kicked off their program. I nearly cry, get up and walk away shaking my head. This is hard work! Many of their questions require you to choose your answer from their program of accepted responses. I am just not into mind games. I push and squeeze to fit myself into their program (anyone out there remember girdles?). When I think that I have done my best, I click the submit button and send my life and heart out into the world of computer dating. Part of me can't believe that I am doing this!

Within hours a river of men start flowing into my computer. At first they are local, within the Las Vegas valley. I carefully read and print out each new match, placing each life into a folder. Then the search widens and there are matches from California, Arizona, Colorado, Washington and Utah. Into the folder they go: paper men, paper tigers, paper dudes, papermates.

There is one fly on this banana. Until I commit and pay my subscription fee, I can only read and not reply to anyone. The service also needs/wants a photograph. Hummmm, I hate having my photo taken. The short, round and bountiful, silver haired lady with glasses is not who I really am. About the only comment I have ever appreciated from Barbara Bush was something to the effect that when she looked in the mirror she still expected to see the slender long haired girl who was only concerned about her tennis game and not the white haired matron with pearls. It took a while to get together with my MWDL (most wonderful daughter in law) and finally snap a few shots.

During the wait for photos, I did a little research on the net and found some sites which list discount codes or coupons for the "hookup" dating service. They are a bit pricey. During this wait a number, maybe half of the matches closed contact. They can only provide a preprogramed message as to the reason for the closure:"didn't have a photo, was too far away, was in a relationship already, other". I did participate in a "free weekend" of contact and responded to a gentlemen in one of our northwest states. He had touched me with his words about his late wife and what he was looking for in the future. I responded with the "canned questions" that are provided by the program and he responded in kind but before we got very far my free time ran out and he closed the match because I hadn't responded. I hope that he will find his soul mate but I have no way of reopening the dialogue so life goes on. I realize this will probably be a long road with a lot of ribbet, ribbet.

After about a week and a half, "hookup" sent me an e-mail with a "special" three month offer at a very reduced price which I immediately accepted. MWDL had e-mailed her photos and I selected the primary one and added two others. I'm ready...on the road again...stay tuned

Welcome to the adventures of Granny B. Two years ago I sort of took a detour off the highway of life, just needed some time to heal and evaluate where my life will go next. My husband and I fought a good battle against Alzheimer's for over eight years. Eight years knowing that there would be no happy ending to our story.

A few weeks ago I was driving down Eastern Avenue near the airport in Las Vegas, playing a good ole Bob Segar tune on my sound system, when I realized that tears were rolling down my face. Not a storm but something like what the Navajo call female rain, soft and gentle, slipping from a crack in my heart. I pulled over into a parking lot and just sat for a few minutes. Maybe it's time for me to start living again. I miss having male companionship. It would be nice to have someone to share the morning paper and coffee or maybe a glass of wine as the day ends.

OK, lets put everything on the table. I am 69, my hair is silver, in the past two years I have packed on a few more pounds than I need so I would describe myself as big and bountiful. I am close to my family with two grandchildren; have strong political opinions, like being a Democratic with a capital "L", prefer to wear berkies and crocs with my jeans, have a funky" tricked out" car, known as the "BOGIEBX" (think boogie box) that I have taken to car shows and meet ups in the past and I just don't consider myself a typical little ole lady.

So I decieded that this is the internet age and why not try online dating! I enrolled in two different senior dating services which I shall call "hookup" and "silver match". The men have started arriving on my computer daily! Wow, every morning there are new matches. I have Cinderella dreams with my coffee. Tall men, short men, bald men, lots of hair men, fat men, slim men: is my special soul mate out there?? What are the rules for senior sex?

Here I am, as the great songwriter Willie Nelson says: "On the road again, I just can't wait to get on the road again". Stay tuned.