Same Profile, Different Site

After a Memorial Day BBQ, and lounging around a pool with cosmos, Leanne, Dawn and I recovered with our favorite guilty pleasure, "E's Girls Next Door." Lately, I'm feeling especially maternal. I want a puppy, or something like it, but probably a puppy. So I've been surfing the Internet at the rescue shelters. They show quasi-messed up pups and their descriptions with their desperate little faces.

Meanwhile, on the couch one over, Leanne and Dawn are surfing for men. On match.com that is. They give me the whole it's-better-to-have-loved-and-lost speech and I try not to throw up in my mouth.

They are tough critics, laughing at a guy who says he likes Rolling Stone..."But he spelled Rolling with one l!"; or "What an idiot! Looking for a girlfriend posing with his last one!" (A little too close to be his sister.) There's also the person who says they want someone "intellegent" and the guy who says his turn ons are power and tattoos. Um, Seriously? Because that makes me no, and no.

Dawn tries to find a guy from Israel with one key prerequisite: "I have to have a guy who takes care of his toenails." Everyone's got their dealbreakers.

The most heart-sinking, gut-churning moment comes if you see one of your exes. Especially if it's you who is cropped out of the picture. Ouch. It's an enlightening read to learn that he's really interested in all of the cool things and places you turned him on to. At least you had some influence. But it sucks to see that you were actually too short for him anyway, were the wrong religion, and had the wrong color hair. If only you had met on effing match. You could have saved yourself a few months.

But no, not me. I'm "old fashioned." I meet someone and think I see hearts and stars and unicorns. If I was smart, like my girlfriends, I would have a membership to a matching service to sort by income, religion, height, smoking section or non, how many kids wanted, divorced, separated, age, and on and on. They call this being "informed", I call this sucking the mystery out of dating.

This is why I commend my girlfriends for having the motivation to get out there (get on the net, that is). I just don't have it in me to jump on the carousel, when all I really want is to adopt a puppy. I'd rather cruise the dog rescue shelters on the Internet. The descriptions are the the same. They talk at length about their personalities, what they like to eat (beef jerky), their age, height, if they play well with children. They don't have pictures with their ex-bitches hanging off their shoulders. They don't lie about their past. They straight up tell you if they've been hurt or abandoned. They proudly advertise their flaws. They don't tell you they're perfect when they just want a home and someone kind and loyal to feed them.

I could be biased, but I find their desperate little faces a lot cuter.