The curse of optimism, or, do I want to fit in or not?

Earlier in the week I was talking to A about the pros and cons of being on a site specifically for bigger girls. There's lots of arguments for and against and although I'd always viewed it as a useful tool for narrowing the market, there's definitely an argument that your size is somewhat fetishised and that that brings with it all kinds of other connotations about the rest of your personality not mattering as long as you've got huge breasts (beware the Pinchers!), or that the kind of men looking for partners on there aren't really looking for partners at all.

Well, so, I thought let's keep the avenues open, and I signed up for the Guardian Soulmates website too. I was dead honest, I put that I'm 'full figured' (which is the politest - and largest - body type description option so it's pretty clear); I put a nice, pretty picture up, and I started browsing. 265 men in my area that are a good match, it says! So off I trot. Oh yes. It does a two-way match thing. They're a good match for ME; but for them, on literally 75-80% of them I am "no match". How's that then Guardian? Well, because they say "body type (crucial) - slim/athletic", and "attractiveness (crucial) - very attractive/drop dead gorgeous" (mine reads, "attractive", because, well, I am - but I'm also not a complete lunatic!). So much for it not being about your looks eh. I'm going to bite my tongue but you know what? *looks round shiftily* If we're going to be that shallow...they might want to rethink their own descriptions, or at least try and take some pictures with their mouths shut, etc. It's about time folks realised that a small waistline does not a good person make. It is interesting though how very average looking men, and you know I am fine with very average looking men haha, it's neither here nor there for me, but it's interesting the confidence levels that seem to be there, or perhaps men are more aspirational than women. My Benjamin Braddock said that he had heard that "men learn to fall in love with who they fancy, whereas women learn to fancy who they fall in love with", and you know what, he might only be 21 but that's a very interesting point about what's important in the rules of attraction. Of course, nobody's typical. I'll just hastily point that out too.

Anyway that was my little rant for this morning. I am not very well, slept badly, and generally found that a bit mean first thing. It does make me kind of want to dig out all those stupid commentary type articles you occasionally get, all encouraging - "90% of men prefer curves!" and all that shite - and just...set fire to them. Or something.

It's such a sensitive issue, weight and size. I probably shouldn't try to write about it before I've taken any decongestants/painkillers and had that first bucket of tea.

By the way, I caved and re-subscribed (for a couple of days) to that other fat-girl dating site, as I was amassing an inbox-full of messages, and so I managed to read Mr Apologetic's latest message. He misses me, apparently. (He's had two brief messages politely declining his advances because he lives miles away, he clearly has some issues - believe me, I've read his profile - and our interests are polarised.) He's still old enough to be my dad and looks worryingly like him too. And he misses me. Oh for pete's sake. I just want to meet one that's not crazy, likes some of the same stuff as me, and is nice to me without turning into a smotherer.

Speaking of smotherers...oh man. I actually was logged in late last night, obviously after the pub run, and was hit upon by a very goodlooking specimen (we're back on the fat-girl website, btw, at this point). Anyway, he's good-looking (read: very good-looking) but...I sense a sucking void swirling. *narrows eyes* we'll see. He's keen anyway. I got up and switched the computer on this morning to write my daily missive and he's been on me like a...like a....wet flannel. Get off, I'm tired and my head is entirely full of goo. I'm not sexy, I'm in my pyjamas and I've got "temperature hair", you know when you wake up all shiny faced with your hair stuck to your forehead because you're running a temperature high enough to fry an egg on your face? Yeah that's me today. Cor.