Status Quo is Hard Proving Difficult to Shake-up

So this is week two on a dating website, my latest foray into not turning into a pathetic loser who can’t even find some schlub to boss around (but at least cuddle with), until I die at the ripe old age of 130. Right after I broke up w/my ex (waaaaay back in Feb. of ’06) I decided to get my feet wet with match.com and eharmony. Just safe ways to get myself out there without really putting myself out there. But my heart wasn’t really in it. I was still too hurt over things, and going from a dateable size 10 to a hoss-like size 24 just put me in a weird headspace where I didn’t really feel like I was a viable partner. But things were on the upswing! I was consciously eating less and also making a concerted effort to use the Stairmaster I was fortunate enough to have sitting in front of a television, and directly under a fan, downstairs. Fast forward to the present. I’m now relegated to a closet-sized living area purporting to be a studio apartment, lots of stress from my job, and a mild estrangement from my family, which has me at a still an undateable size 22.

I don’t know why I feel that way. I see heavy girls partnered up everywhere I go, but internally I always imagine a scenario where their initial meeting was during a point where they were both relatively thin, it’s just the normal “couple pudge” that happens to many people when their in a secure relationship. (Not to say that keeping fit means you’re in an insecure state/relationship, this is just how my poisoned mind works.)

So what’s a single girl to do? I feel like I’ve been open to dating and meeting new people but the past 10 or so months (the time I’ve truly been over my ex and ready to meet someone new), the few dates I’ve had haven’t yielded anything. Moving to a new town full of upwardly mobile, edumacated men hasn’t changed anything either. And my good intentions to exercise and eat less surprisingly enough have NOT been enough to miraculously shave inches off my hips, thighs, and jelly-belly. And I started thinking about…yeah, it's tough to admit….chubby chasers.

Now, I’ve always been leery of chubby chasers, mostly b/c I equate that kind of predilections with fetishes. I just don’t really know that I would trust that a guy would really be interested in me, and not just interested in oiling me up to get their kicks and moving onto the next tubby tart. But then, for some reason (OK, I think we all know it’s b/c I’m starting to feel desperate), I starting to change the way I thought about such things. I mean, I’m fairly liberal when it comes to “types” of guys that I’m attracted to; I normally focus on personality before I consider whether or not I’m interested, but many many people have certain features in mind when picking potential date-mates. So if I think it’s perfectly normal for gentlemen to prefer blondes, then why can’t I get on board with fellows following fatties? Kind of a double standard, huh? This was my thought process when I placed my monthly subscription to a “big and beautiful” website about 2 weeks ago.

And what now? I’ll tell you what now! 70 interested men, 2 sketchy IM sessions, and only two men I even want to spend time getting to know (but am no longer getting responses from), and I’m STILL hopelessly devoted to single serving popcorn, mythbuster marathons for one, and the only horizontal love I get is from snuggling my poodle. (Sadly not a euphamism for anything remotely sexual, I promise). Despite the fact that many of these guys claim to want a serious relationship, their game is just too off-putting for me. I'm not a prude, but I need the dance! I need to feel enough admiration and trust to want to talk sex with a guy. Why is that so bad? Are other girls really going so fast that by the third e-mail it's time to let some guy into your e-panties? Sighhh.... but this is getting dire. The other day as I was channel surfing, a love scene on HBO literally made me cry. YES! Watching sex made me CRY! The opposite of a normal response to visuals of coitus! And the reason? I miss it, and I'm just not certain that I'm ever going to be there again.