Let me begin by stating, my mother made me do it. (sigh)

Until recently, I really didn’t think mom’s comments regarding saving my eggs or getting back “out there” were any more then just her bent sense of humour.  How wrong I was.

With my birthday (now looming) around the corner, she’s increased her comments to the point of driving me insane.  I’m almost questioning what’s wrong with me.  Almost. But if only that were it… if only it were just the comments, but now she’s taken to leaving the newspaper open to the singles and seeking section with several “options” circled.   I don’t believe there was a day last week that went by that she didn’t make some remark about how I should sign up to eHarmony because look how nice those professional men looked…

I don’t want those men.  I want -my- fickle Romeo… Can’t she see that?

Anyway, I told her you had to pay and how a cute girl like me with a fun personality who just happens to be in a wee bit of a personal relationship slump (or complication…) didn’t need to PAY to meet someone.  Just because she doesn’t think I should put my eggs into one uncertain basket (gosh, I’ll never think of eggs the same way)… doesn’t mean I should just forget that that particular basket is the one I want all my eggs in. Right?

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m sure there are some cool people out there who just need that little bit of help to get them in the door.  I’ve a few friends who met online some years ago and are still going strong.  Heck, I’m still good mates with my ex (whom I met online)! I just don’t want to “date.”  Not with any of them, at least…

Regardless, my mom has been relentless.  So to appease her I signed up. I thought this would be good enough.  I completed this long survey of questions about my likes, dislikes, what I would do or think of certain situations… etc etc.  It took forever.  I had to walk away from the screen a few times to take a break.  At the end of it, you think you’ve finally arrived; you upload your photo and wait.  Ha! Then you notice that though you have a photo in your album, it says there’s none there (on the side panel) You answer a few more questions thinking they’ll let you see something, but then they ask you for the money.  I’m not paying – forget it.  Wrong.

Mom says let me see these guys; my supposed matches. She was onto me.  All you can see without paying is their profile.  Which I was fine with, but my mom is a slick old woman… that would not do for her.  None of this “I’ll do it later” was going to stop her now. Not when she was so close to having grandchildren – wtf?! Ok, after telling her to slow her roll… I paid.  It was a small price to pay to calm the savage beast that was growing bolder and more desperate each day.

I paid. I’m too cute for this. Really.  I am. Romeo, look what you drove my mother to do…

To top it all off, mom’s like “oh he’s not that bad…” clearly LYING as she makes a face that I’m sure is holding back the vomit that just rose up into her throat.  In the two days that I’ve been signed up and over 26 matches, there has been not one worth giving a second look.  Throwbacks.  She tells me give it time, maybe the cute tv professionals come later on…

No mom.  This is it.  I want my money back and now a written apology for torturing me into doing this.  It’s time my mom faced the facts – TV lies.

I have three months of this to not look forward to.  Joy. Thanks mom – I hope you’re happy.

Oh yeah, I’ll be documenting my disgruntled comments for the duration.  Feel free to drop on by for my latest musings… come on and pull up a chair, y’all.

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