Old Moon Fades Into The New

It's looking less and less likely that I'll find anyone through match.com. Like in the real world, it's really the chicks who decide who they'll hook up with. Match.com simply accelarates the selection so that two years worth of dating for women can be compressed into two months--speed-dating I've heard it called. These chicks get approximately 50 e-mails a day via match.com if they have a photo up. If they don't find a guy attractive, they simply ignore his e-mail as opposed to a brush off in the regular bar scene sitch (helluva lot easier on the ego, so yeah, guys too benifit from match.com). Anyway, anytime I send out an e-mail to a female member, I'm competing with at least 49 other dudes. Chances are one or two of these dudes are GQ model types who can actually come across like a human being in their profile. Assuming that a female member goes out with each one of the one or two daily hunk a burnin' luv (that's 7 a week on a conservative estimate) during a month membership (that's 30 or, ah, you can do the math), chances are that she'll end up having a long term relationship with one of those dudes. That leaves the 49 or so dudes plus some change times, well, you know what I mean, completely SOL. Now, I'm not exactly an ugmo, but I do know I don't turn heads while walking down the street. What exacerbates this for me is that I'm a yellow brutha who likes the round-eye, but unfortunately, there aren't that many round-eye sistas that be givin' the yellow bruthas their props. But still, it's one of several tools in my belt and plus it's cheap.

Anyway, the whole Match.com sitch reinforces that old adage about love coming when you're not looking for it (major suckage for me since almost every waking second is devoted to thinking about it--and even worse, the only times I've really hit it off were when I truly wasn't looking). In order to get this outta my system so I can start thinking about other things, like what color ties goes with a suit that isn't quite gray, more of a criss-crossing black interspersed with white to create the illusion of gray, here are the characteristics of my absolute dream woman:

Slim and slender, with legs from here to ya-ya (yeah I'm starting with physical characteristics, just call me shallow);
Green-eyes but almost Asian in shape, straight blonde hair cut chin length (think Gretchen Mol, crap, should've just said, "looks like Gretchen Mol");
Can talk about music for hours;
Knows the lyrics to Zero 7's "Destiny" and isn't afraid to sing them;
Still likes to slow dance, both arms draped over the neck way;
Did I already say can talk about music for hours?;
and loves me like the dickens. While we're at it, I'd like peace in the world and for all the little children to have chocolate.