consider the plight of the bipolar fat chick. those two things alone will scare off 99% of the available men; most of the remaining 1% are creepy fat fetishists. but wait! there's more!
i'm a DWF, 36, only sporadically employed in the tech industry as i desperately cling to the illusion that i won't have to move back to Pennsylvania and take care of my elderly, alcoholic parents to keep a roof over my head, and i talk to my cats. i read a lot, but not the sort of hip literary stuff that would make me appear erudite; i wear glasses, but they're not trendy "nerd" glasses (honestly, when was the last time you saw an actual nerd wearing nerd glasses?); and these days i stick to decaf because caffeine makes me feel like crap. i'm better-educated than most college graduates (in my frequent but often stunningly witty moments of self-deprecation i can refer to my ass as "Brobdingnagian" without having to look up the spelling), but i didn't go to college myself, unless you count the one semester of community college i took when i was 16 after i got kicked out of high school. but that's kind of a long story, so let's save it for that date i just know you're itching to ask me out on as you read this. but wait -- don't click that email link yet! i'm not done enticing you!
i don't listen to electronica. i did go to a rave once, but i was bored shitless. i have never been to Burning Man, nor have i ever felt even a moment's desire to camp in the desert. i don't know where to get good pot. i have arthritis, which precludes doing much in the way of being athletic or outdoorsy, which is convenient since i absolutely hate to exercise and prefer to enjoy the great outdoors from the comfort of a sidewalk cafe. i don't want kids, and by that i mean... i actually don't want kids. if you had my genes, would you want to pass them on? well, okay, my parents did, and i'd make them pay for it if they weren't already doing such a standout job of making themselves miserable, but hey, if it's already broke, why waste time trying to make it more broken?
i have an unhealthy attraction to emotionally unavailable men. this has not worked out well for me, but i do have some truly hilarious stories about my last boyfriend, whom i suspect is a borderline sociopath. i'm pretty ambivalent about the whole dating thing at this point, to be honest, since i don't really trust myself to make intelligent choices once my hormones get involved. fortunately for me, it's so rare that i actually find anyone attractive that i almost never have to worry about it. particular turnoffs for me are copious facial hair, massive beer guts, and socks with sandals.
all this aside, i'm actually a pretty cool person. i'm smart as hell, i've got a great sense of humor, and it's been ten years since i was stupid enough to think i could stop taking my medication. i'm fairly attractive, assuming you like fat chicks (5'6", 190 or so, if you were wondering) and come equipped with three tattoos and a mostly functional set of social skills. i've got a wide range of interests including cooking (especially curries), gardening (i grow culinary herbs on my balcony), movies (particularly action movies and classic hollywood musicals, and i collect old movie posters), music (i used to be a professional musician, but now i just do it to keep myself amused), antiques (more in the "cool old stuff" vein than the "outrageously expensive furniture" vein), and all sorts of other stuff.
i've been single for six years now, and i'm really sick of doing everything alone. i'm ok with taking a book with me to a restaurant, but things like mini-golf and bowling are not good solo activities, and i can't really fool myself anymore into feeling independent and empowered about wandering around the MOMA by myself. i miss having someone to curl up with on the couch and watch documentaries. i miss making naked post-sex waffles in the middle of the night. i miss having someone around who cares how my day went or can at least fake it convincingly. i miss foot massages and lying around in bed doing the Sunday crossword and sharing a bottle of wine on the balcony while the sun sets behind the building that partially obstructs my otherwise spectacular view of the ocean. i even miss toothpaste squeezed carelessly from the middle, finding empty milk cartons in the fridge, and arguing over what video to rent.
i like smart guys who haven't got anything to prove. drop me a line and maybe i'll overcome my ambivalence and answer you.