Monday, December 22, 2008

Really?

A few highlights from my matches from the past few days:

Describe the most influential person in your life:
"My grandmother was a wise woman full of wisdom."

The last book you read and enjoyed:
"I was home for the holidays and red all the Dr. Seuss books that I had as a child."
(apparently neither the books nor the question prompt helped him to spell "read" correctly)

What are you most passionate about?
"football traveling"
(unclear if this is traveling to watch football, or there might be a comma missing)

How do you usually spend your leisure time?
"football traveling movie"
(yes, same person)

What do you wish more people would notice about you?
"I'm proud of the big mole on my back."


(Matches closed.)

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Eh?

So sometimes even the good-seeming ones have some funny typos. I'll preface this with the fact that I'm not sure it's a typo, but I'm also not sure how to ask for clarification on this, so I welcome all suggestions in the comments section.

The sentence in question is "my sister and I always enjoy playing cards with our dad and her husband".


Fascinating.

The most influential person in one of my daily match's life has been "The girls basketball at the school that I used to coach at. She taught me to respect your peers and members of the team."

A basketball with the ability to impart life lessons... certainly influential, but a "person"? Hmmmm... Is this match aware that readers might be concerned about his mental health with an answer like that? (or are you all just concerned for my mental health due to my obsession with grammar and typos?)


Thursday, December 11, 2008

It's a Small, Small World

Today I was talking about going home to Smalltown, ME for Christmas, and a nurse overheard the conversation and said, "Are you from Maine?"

"Yes," I said, "I am."

  "Where?"

"Smalltown?" I responded, wondering if she knew of it.

She paused and stared at me.

  "What street?"

"Wait - you're from Smalltown too?!" I asked.

  "Yes - what street did you live on?"

"Valley Street."

  "What number?"

"Wait - you're kidding, right? 

  "No - that was the street I grew up on - what number were you at?"

"43."

  "Seriously? My parents' house was 63."

So I described to her where my parents' house is, and she described to me where her parents' house was. But I still didn't have a clear picture of which house, exactly, it was. I asked her if her parents were still there. She told me they had both passed away in the past seven years. She said they had moved away from Smalltown in the mid 1990s, which means my family lived on Valley Street when they were still there. The nurse said she bet my parents probably knew her parents. 

  "My parents are the F's. I'm Meghan F."

"WHAT!?"

  "You knew them?"

Not only did I know who the nurse's parents were, but we went to the same church for a few months. 

And not only did we go to the same church, but we had Easter dinner with them one year. 

And not only THAT (here's the real kicker), but the nurse's parents - my former neighbors - were the grandparents of a guy I went to grade school with when I lived in Smalltown, NH before my family moved to Smalltown, ME.

So not only did the nurse I work with grow up in the same town as I did, she is also the aunt of a classmate of mine from grade school in NH and the daughter of my former neighbors in ME.

Crazy. 

I'm still shaking my head.


Another Gem

From this morning's batch of matches comes a man from Boston, MA whose occupation is "spend more to make more" and whose one and only photo was a picture of him from the back, wearing nothing but a bathing suit, and, based on what I can only imagine from the small size of the photo, peeing.

Not really sure what kind of woman this guy is looking for, but I am pretty sure I'm not it.

(Match closed.)

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Aaaaand, we're back!

For all your reading pleasure, and so I can once again feel proactive about my dating life, I have re-joined the online dating world.

This morning a few new matches were delivered to my inbox, and one jumped right out at me. It was from a man who lives just across the river in "Cambridgte". Reading more, I learned that he is thankful for being "A live" and "Healty" and that he wishes more people would notice his "goog humor". According to dictionary.com, "goog" is Australian for "egg" so perhaps he's from Australia and has really good egg humor. But I doubt it. 

Is it really so hard to spell-check one's profile answers before they get posted? I think not.

(Match closed.)

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Ten Years

The night of December 3rd, 1998, an all-female college a cappella group stood singing in a small dorm room in Vermont. They sang a song called “Heaven” and then stepped out into the hallway. Moments later, one of the girls collapsed for no apparent reason. The energy in the tiny hallway went from joy to panic as the women realized that their friend was in trouble. Hours later, after the young woman had been taken to the hospital and the rest of the group sat waiting in the chapel for word on her condition, the news arrived: she had died.

I was in that a cappella group, and it was my friend Christine who died. And that night changed my life forever.

Tonight marks the 10th anniversary of the night Christine died. It is a reminder to me that each of us has a limited time on this planet, and what we do with that time is what defines us. Christine filled her life with laughter and light. At her memorial service, a friend told a story about going on a road trip with her when her car started making a "ding" noise that could not be silenced. Rather than get annoyed, Christine discovered that Madonna songs had the same beat as the dinging sound, and so the two road trippers happily blasted Madonna the whole way home.

In her life and after her death, Christine taught me the importance of living life with joy and a healthy sense of humor. She also taught me the importance of surrounding myself with people who love and support me and who I can love and support in return. She taught me that as cliche as it might sound, life can be short, and the choices I make every day about how I spend my time and who I spend it with are important.

I know that I would not be where I am today if it weren't for Christine. The hours, days, weeks and months following her death taught me about the incredible support professionals can add to the grief and healing process, and pointed me towards my career in social work. Today I am fortunate to be able to provide support to others going through challenging times, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel Christine's presence in all that I do.

Next week we will share in a celebration of her life with family and friends. But tonight I light a candle and give thanks for Christine and the lasting impact of her short life.