Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Haikus for Online Love

Girls of match dot com:
Lascivious pics I sent,
Respond you did not.

I've winked. I've wooed. In the end I boohooed. Thirty emails have been sent, but only one response. The only interpretation is to take this personally. After a less than successful Valentine's night in Wrigleyville--the highlight being a young woman passing out while talking (more like slurring) to me, I swore off the bar scene and decided to try the online harem that is Match.

After being bombarded with emails that my love is waiting for me, I started a three day trial. I returned the favor to the "millions" of users on the site by sending snappy emails. The hours of day two are waning and I have not found my love nor an interested party. Viewing the profile and text boxes as chances to share who I am--I left out the part about living at home and only being on there for the trial--I've gone through three iterations of a bio. All riveting. All unique. None garnering admiration or beatnik snaps.

I've tried minimalism, humor and brutal honesty. Subsequently, I give up. I've always heard you find someone when you stop looking. After covert dating cessations, this break might be real.

Online love I sought
Unanswered prose in outbox
Back to junior high.

I Don't Want an Office Ass

I'm fearful.

A cursory glance around this megalithic office and I am confronted with super-sized proportions. In terms of fruit, those waddling around in the lunch room resemble what some might endearingly call the pear shape.

Yes, I did watch the episode of Oprah where she discussed dressing for your shape.

Being a young male with the blessing of an Italian metabolism, my shape best resembles a zucchini, if the sides had all been run through a mandolin.

Despite the incentive of a monetary discount to join the gym, I have yet to enroll. In my six weeks here, I’ve succumbed to peer pressure. I am militant about packing a lunch in the morning, but when asked if I want to go out to lunch, my stomach and mouth say yes. Already labeled “cheap” by my coworkers, I don’t want to appear anti-social or stingy, so I have gone out a bit more often than I budgeted. Despite claiming the frugality defense, I was deemed cheap after affirmatively answering a question about the reuse of plastic lunch bags.

If the gym option weren’t enough to combat obesity, there’s also a Get Fit campaign for the next month trying to get people moving whether it’s walking, running or cycling. It’s a good start, but I think if they would just unchain me from my cubicle, it would prevent developing a monster pear ass.