Ramblings of a Frustrated Matchmaker

Many things have been running through my head in the last few days. This is no different from any other grouping of days, but I thought I would begin this post in this way. I’ve been a deep thinker ever since I can remember, and I can remember back when I was two.

I’ve been thinking of my internet boyfriend, who isn’t a real boyfriend. He’s a boy and a friend, but not a “boyfriend.” There’s no lust involved. If truth be told, I believe him to be a MAN and a friend, but MANfriend sounds a bit unwieldy. I like boyfriend. Which is neither here nor there, because sometimes he thinks he’s a robot. Sometimes he thinks he is other things as well. This amusing bit of chameleon-ness is rather endearing.

Anyway, MIB has a lot on his mind these days, and a lot on his plate (figuratively, not literally) so his attention has been elsewhere. This is okay by me. The lull in silly banter has provided me with an opportunity to add a couple thousand words to my novel. (I’m not a painfully slow writer; I just don’t have eight consecutive hours to write, so I write when I have a half hour or more.)

Another person I know here is a delightfully wonderful person known as David Rochester. I met him on another web site last year, and was immediately drawn into his circle of net-groupies. He writes beautifully, and his mini-essays about himself are told wryly. Usually, I laugh, but it’s not because I’m laughing at him. His posts are told from a point of view that’s both real and humorous. I like him, but he’s not my internet boyfriend. He’s very self-effacing, which I don’t think is deserved. My opinion, of course. Anyone with a mind and heart like his doesn’t need a princely outer covering.

At one point, I think I told him if I were his age and unattached I think I might have to pursue him. This was before I really knew anything about him, except that he writes like an angel. I have since amended that thought. I would have had to have gotten my hooks into him in elementary school for me to be effective.

Then there is my friend, Wanda. She is crushing on Orlando Bloom big time. She’s been following him for months, if not years, for her 15 minutes or 36 seconds of audience with the Great One. Why, I’m not sure. Oh, yes, he’s attractive enough, in a fey sort of way. He doesn’t do anything for me, of course. (Give me Richard Gere any day.) The absolutely horrible thing is that guy seems to be snubbing her. And after she started a mini-web riot with her fan clubs of him. You’d think Orly would give her a call; after all, they’re hanging in the same ‘hood.

The reason for this rambling rose of a post is that I wish I could do something for David and Wanda. (MIB needs no help, and neither do I.) I’ve had some experience as a matchmaker, too. I’d like to place an ad on Craigslist for David, and screen the applicants very carefully. Probably none of them will work out for him, but it would be great entertainment for me. For Wanda, I’d like to put up a billboard in her city. “Dear Orlando Bloom, please see me at http://www.wandarizzuto.com.” If that doesn’t get his attention, I don’t know what will.

Okay, that’s enough ramblings. Back to work now.