Even money says this guy will find a woman before I do.

Kinda makes me wonder just how low a woman’s standards will have to be before I finally make the cut.

Update: And now we have another lovely fellow by the name of Jack, whose interests include “eating small children and harming small animals.”

Really makes you think twice before putting up a volume of intimate personal details about yourself (down to the type of dresses you wear) on that crazed, stalker happy, whacko network we all know and love as MySpace.

While I was out getting my ride cleaned up at the nearby self car wash, I noticed a couple behind me in an obnoxiously large pickup truck. The guy got out to get some change, so I glanced over to get a look at him. Fuzzy faced, sports cap on tight, shorts down to his kneecaps, and keys with a neckband so long it dragged across the ground as he approached the change machine. I couldn’t get a good look at the girl riding shotgun, but I could tell she was cute.

Normally, seeing a scum sucking scuzzbucket (apparently emulating Eminem or some other pasty white rapper wanna-be loser) like that with a girl would get me upset, but then I stepped back and took a deeper look here.

What was I getting upset about really? Because he had a girl, and I didn’t? But was it because no girl could ever want me, or was it simply because I had standards? Truthfully, I could go out right now and grab up some back alley ho that I could wrap my arm around and show off to all my friends if I really wanted to. But I wanted something better. I wasn’t content to have some two bit slut with the morals of a brain damaged monkey on crack in my life, just to prove that I could get a girl. I was looking for much more than that.

What’s really sad though is that even though I think my standards are reasonable enough, 80 percent of the single female population probably don’t measure up. Under ideal standards, 99.99 percent wouldn’t measure up, while the other .01 percent appear to live only in our dreams. Women today seem to vary from being skanks, whores, sluts, tramps, bimbolinas, etc., to being hellish female dogs spawned by Satan himself. Those who are godly, intelligent, kind and honest are an endangered species bordering on extinction, and even if I happen to come across one of them during my travels through life, there is usually some factor that would prevent me from pursuing them (like being married, for one). This is what our world has sadly has come to these days, and it is in this mess that I must somehow find the true girl of my dreams.

Yet as much as it would pain me to be alone, I recognize just how much MORE painful it would be to date a girl so obviously wrong for me, that to be with her would paradoxically make me feel even MORE alone and lost in the world.

It would seem impossible that I would ever meet anyone right for me, and yet despite the insurmountable odds I face here, I still have hope that she’s out there somewhere, a sweet and wonderful angel who is waiting and praying for me to come into her life soon. Call it delusion, insanity, or psychosis induced by food deprivation, but no matter what, this hope never seems to die. And for now, that will have to do as I fight to get my life in order again.

After years of computer use, you’d think I would have learned by now that it’s not always wise to upgrade to the latest and greatest software the minute it comes out. It’s just bad hoodoo, dude.

But of course the second Wordpress 2.1 had been released, I just HAD to download it and install it right away, thinking my blog would run twice as fast due to the much touted bugfixes and cleaner code 2.1 offered. I imagined angels singing and the sounds of songbirds chirping as visitors would come and gape in awe at the newfound speed and ease at which they would surf my newly upgraded website.

Nope. Instead, it broke a few of my plugins and then torpedoed my blog’s skin. I furiously deleted everything and uploaded my backup copy as soon as I could, then sat back with a tear in my eye as other bloggers happily went onto 2.1 nirvana.

But I noticed in the brief moment that I did manage to get 2.1 working, that my first reaction had been: “Gee, doesn’t seem to be any different from 2.0.” And now, right on the heels of 2.1’s release, the developers are planning to soon release 2.2. After looking at the features THAT release will offer, I realized it didn’t really offer anything that I didn’t already have with the plugins I was currently using now. So truthfully, other than updating Wordpress 2.0.X with security fixes, there really wasn’t a pressing need for me to upgrade. I also knew with each upgrade it would take days, weeks, months (and maybe never) for developers to update their plugins in order to ensure compatibility with the latest version of Wordpress.

So what’s the hurry really? My blog is working fine as it is, and besides it seems like every time I upgrade, some major component gets totally hosed, forcing me to downgrade once again. If it ain’t broke…

I’m sure eventually I’ll have to upgrade my blog some day, especially once the developers stop supporting security fixes for my now grandfathered version of Wordpress. But until that happens, I ain’t gonna do nuttin’. Nuttin’, you hear me? Nuttin’!!!

Instead, I cleaned up the backend by removing some useless or rarely used plugins, then installed and somehow managed to get WP-Cache working without a hitch. That should cache my main pages and hopefully speed up load time for visitors. Aren’t I thoughtful? My blog now seems to be running smoothly, all my plugins are functional, and I’m finally starting to enjoy blogging for real again. Life is good.

Now, if I could only get me a woman…

….when I can now enjoy the fresh episodes of Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis?

I got my tub of Blockbuster popcorn, a nice tall glass of Diet Cola, and the easy chair all geared up and ready to go. Ahhh, a Friday night all to myself. Maybe now I’ll be able to forget about how Uptown Girl strung me along for months and then finally blew me off, the no-good lying backstabbing Babylonian harlot may she choke on her own vomit.

But I’m not upset about it.

I kinda knew deep down that things wouldn’t get very far with her. Not so much because we came from two different worlds, but also because she gave off the vibe of being an emotionally cold, self indulgent woman. If she truly had a kind heart, one that showed a genuine care and concern for others, then why was she working for a law firm that catered only to rich clients? Why wasn’t her heart drawn to helping less fortunate people, victims of wrongdoing who never see justice only because they simply couldn’t afford it? Why didn’t she take time to volunteer for charitable work? Where was that trait I was so earnestly looking for, of a woman who was willing to stretch forth her hand to the poor and needy? She just didn’t have it.

It was clear instead that she enjoyed living the good life. Sipping wine, vacationing to exotic places, tanning on beaches, jacuzzis, massages, and so on, the kind of life she could only sustain by working for an affluent law firm. Yet, I don’t begrudge her for doing these things. I think there’s a time and place for recreation and fun, but I also think there’s a point where your life becomes so hedonistic that it can corrupt your soul. And even though she professed to be a Christian, spirituality to her was something that was summed up in attending church once a week, and nothing more. She was not one I could share deep discussions about my faith with. And this was a maddening mentality I’ve seen repeatedly before which I could never understand. How can people truly expect to placate God by only dedicating a few hours on Sunday to Him, and then completely forget about Him for the rest of the week? Can they honestly believe He is pleased by this display of lukewarm spirituality?

Through my emails I opened my heart up to her, and though she claims to have been touched by it, I knew she really wasn’t. There was no empathy, no concern for my well-being, no genuine interest in how I was dealing with the aggravation and problems I was currently experiencing in my life, even though I was certainly interested in what her daily afflictions might have been. But the thing is, she didn’t have any. Suffering for her was not being able to sip wine on her patio because it rained.

She wasn’t a bad person though. But she wasn’t a good person either. I began to realize all this early on, but I guess I held on anyway, hoping against hope that maybe she would surprise me. Maybe she would indeed have a soft and gentle soul, tuned in to the suffering of others, with a fire inside her that yearned to alleviate their burdens and comfort those that needed comforting. Maybe the apparent coldness she seemed to give off was just borne out of an understandable hesitation to open up to me. Maybe for once, my sixth sense was just wrong here.

Or maybe not.

Now it’s back to enjoying Friday nights all by myself again, with only a tub of popcorn and a teddy bear named Homer to keep me company.