...Hope you are aware of the work of Pavlov...
Stumbling in from reading profiles, you take an empty seat; luckily there are plenty to be had.
She enters...dang, she's not blonde!
Quasi>"My name is Quasimodem...and I am a Netoholic"
The Net> "Hi Quasi"!
Quasi> My story starts with a simple intranet...
At first I just used it for business purposes, an email here and there. It was strange at first, but it's what you have to do to get ahead; it was expected. I hated my boss, never gave him the time of day but one day...(cringe) I added a smiley in the body of my message.
I think his name was Walter, a maggot-like, married son of a **** who used to corner me by the water cooler. Truth was that it was pretty easy to smiley without looking his way, and the nightmares where I covered "him" with toilet paper, so not to touch him, dwindled. I think my therapist would call that disassociation.
So began my descent into Pavlovian Hell! Emoticon Mania continued...
Until one day...
A single rope, highlighted in orange, dropped down with every click, tone and Micro-softic beep that came from my computer.
drool :-} ~
get a life
So I drooled...
In any event, it was the only option available. What was I to do? I was hooked, trapped...dare I say, addicted!
I started to look like a cross between a pet rock and a pet maggot: white, glistening and not moving too swiftly. That menu haunts me still...and yes, if you must know, I was drooling before meeting you here.
Please don't think any less of me.
No longer were real friends enough. I surfed from site to site in the company of: teenagers and those who desire them, bored housewives in filthy homes, and men who use two fingers to type...at least that's their explanation for their sluggish typing skills.
Are you typing with two fingers, or are you just happy to see me?
Never mind the tortured souls...
Men taunted by Viagra who can't log off, women reduced from objects to gifs, and ....me, chatting it up with strangers, drowning in a pool of my own spit!
Think I'm laughing?
If I was really laughing my ass off, don't you think it would take me longer to get back to the keyboard? Heck, I came to the conclusion that I am not that amused, or amusing, a long time ago ...
"you" aren't that amusing either!
As part of my therapy I have been advised to seek out others battling similar demons, which brings me here to you. Perhaps we could share some spit...after all, I'm way past the chatting stage!
Okay the spit thing was just done for drama. It's only virtual spit, and contrary to my musings, I am not under a therapist's care.
My children live on their own. Quirky, stubborn, opinionated, fun, dependable, conservative with a not so conservative coating, animated, silly, loyal and emotionally brave. I can be a tad impatient. I cry and laugh easily, but laugh exponentially more! I talk: with my hands, with inflection and energy. I enjoy the moment.
I do not want to base my choices on a mere pic (wow, that would make it easy) or percussive emails.
I am not looking for a fling, nor someone to live with, but gosh, "a" romantic partner in life is exciting, fun, and natural.
Make no mistake...
I ultimately desire one man, and realize that I am responsible for setting the stage. There is no shame if a leading man isn't in the cards, there is a shame to not placing yourself open to possibility and complaining that your life isn't happening.
What is happening with that?
Needless to say, I enjoy positiveness in myself and those I am around. None of us gets out of life unscathed, and the only defining thing for quality of life is attitude.
I am not a believer in "soul mates". I do believe in infatuation. I believe in love. They both are pretty great, but infatuation is a precursor to love, but not always. I know the difference between the two, and revel in each independently.
My attention span is greater than a goldfish. My ego is healthy enough to love being treated well. I don't need for you to tower over me, but if you don't, I would hope you would appreciate that I stand 5 foot eight. I admire the dedication that is behind being a doctor, lawyer or judge but, it's the man, not the job that impresses me. You will not see me balancing a tea cup on my knee with white gloves or see me doing body shots at a bar. I find both equally distasteful.
I like a guy who isn't bossy.
I want to be the one you phone when the workday is going badly, something exciting has happened, or if you are just plain bored. To have that happen is a wonderful compliment. I enjoy a great sense of self in a man, a playfulness, and honesty. You need me to agree with you as much as you expect your closest male friends.
Do your friends always agree with you?
Creative minds compel me the most and if trust is at the top of your list, you've hit the jackpot.
You should actually enjoy being around someone who is exuberant. I surround myself with extroverts and introverts and enjoy each of them in different ways. I enjoy good manners, they are tried and tested ways to make others feel comfortable. If you get a kick out of making me feel wonderful, I am your gal!
After all of this, surprise...People describe me as bubbly, warm and friendly. That being said, I realize there is a difference between writing and meeting. My acquaintances would not recognize this as my profile, those close to me would know this is my profile from hundreds. If it is your intention to be truthful here, I believe this platform has merit. Pssssttt...It's why I am here.
If you decide you want to meet me, and me you, it's because we want to meet; I can't imagine why I would have a quick exit inherent in meeting someone whom I find interesting.