Tag Archives: Erin

Hanging on!

Hanging on!

One of the things that has always stood out for me is Jane’s natural motherhood. I have never observed a mother so calm and consistent with her screaming brood, the youngest constantly hanging from her like a chimpanzee in a safe jungle, not skipping a beat in our conversation as he swings from her left arm to her neck and then upside down off her torso. The kid’s got Cirque de Soleil written all over him.

Jane is unflappable, and her wry humor has served her well. I love those boys, and after an evening of running around making sure they are not maiming themselves or each other, I realize that you either have it or you don’t. She’s got it. I’ve got cats.

Really, men will want you

Really, men will want you

A couple of years ago, after my husband decided he was done with us, I confided to my friend Erin that I had no where to go with men.  I was old (at the time 46), perimenopausal, careerless, with three children, one of them special needs, and a mountain of debt.  I was out there on the open market with nothing.  NOTHING.

Erin said no.  “Oh no.  Get on eHarmony right now.  You won’t believe it.  The men are out there and, really, men will want you.”

Not one to not take a good friend’s advice, especially when the outcome seemed so beneficial, I immediately joined eHarmony and spent the next four hours filling out their online questionnaire.  After that workout, I felt that a) I couldn’t possibly know myself any better than at that moment and b) I’m going to meet someone who has been screened to within an inch of his life.  How could he not be perfect after that virtual rectal exam?  Seriously – if you haven’t been through it you should.  I broke out in a sweat, I cried, I laughed, I took notes – and it was an online survey.

I pushed submit.  I was in.  I was committed.  I got the message which stated that it could take several hours for results to come.  It could take a few days.  That didn’t stop me from checking every 15 minutes.

And nothing came.  No one wanted me.  I even checked the “search nationwide” box hoping to expand the possibilities!  Cast the widest net!  Nothing.

Then twelve hours later, the first guy came through!  Erin was right, I am wanted!!  I couldn’t click fast enough to see who Mr. Right was.

Mr. Right was a balding, with comb-over, red-haired guy wearing a muscle shirt standing next to his El Camino.  He was diminuitive.  A hair stylist from Denver.  A subsequent photo showed him standing next to his “rose garden” which consisted of a single bush planted, inexplicably, in the middle of his yard.  Oh God.  This was my man.  Shoot me.

He was my only man for the next 24 hours, then other candidates started to come through.  And I was much relieved and my faith in the universe restored.  For an entire day though, I thought that guy was it for me.  I had sunk to that depth.  It was painful.  And I was going to have to let my friend Erin go.  How could she have been so wrong?  How could she have put me through that?

So like the Phoenix, I rose from the ashes of the El Camino Comb-Over.  Maybe eHarmony does that on purpose:  completely lowers your expectations then builds you back up.

Whatever, it worked for me.  Ever since then, all men have looked pretty good.  All other men.