Apparently, the time to get noticed on JDate is after 1 a.m. on a Friday night. I was home, avoiding laundry, decided to just pop on there for a bit, see what happens, and WHAM, my pick of messages. Why this had to start up with only just over a week left on my subscription, I have no idea. Maybe it's JDate's way of getting me to pay for a second month. I dunno.
Also, why I was only getting messages from L.A.-area Jews, I dunno. But hey, my ego is not going to complain one bit.
Back in the day, when I was in my late teens and early 20s, I was mad skilled at the intarweb flirting. It was interesting to watch all those old rusty talents creakingly try to rise to the occasion. Kind of frightening, too. Apparently I held my own well enough; is that something I can be proud of?
But before this startling realization of my late-night attractions (maybe I should have stayed on the Graveyard Shift), and even now, I've been antsy to shake this loser-feeling that's been hanging over my head for a lot of this year. The trip to New York in February kind of pushed this feeling to the forefront, and I can't seem to find a way to shove it back into the recesses of my mind. It's become an obsession, even though I know better. It's partially what you might think, but I have a feeling this has got its roots in almost a decade of missed opportunities, settling, bad choices, envy, laziness, missing the mark on my own expectations ... and probably also has something to do with being 30 and not being at the place I thought I'd be at when I hit that milestone.
The current cure being attempted: contest entering. It started with the cheap ones: the state Lottery, free leave-a-comment-win-a-book offers on my favorite blogs, the orchid giveaways that my office building has on a regular basis (when they switch out the plants). And it's culminated in the big kahuna: The San Francisco Dream House raffle.
I know, I know, it's a lot of money to put down for a small chance of getting return. But I figure, it's going to a good cause, the chances of winning are better than the lottery, and damn, wouldn't it be nice if I won? Even just one of the smaller prizes. (Though fuck it, I want the house.) So I took the money the gubmint returned to me (just got my refund), and threw some of it at this dream. Maybe it'll buoy me up for a few months. A girl's gotta have hope that she will win. Sometime. Eventually.