got matchmade?

A last minute 2 person quiet break-fast do turned out to be an 8 person chill out session. Some of us haven't seen each other in months. Tales of pre-historic years and concerted immensely moronic behaviours were reminded to bring about hysterical laughters.

A lot of catching up was also involved - work updates, baby strollers discussions, who & who's wedding preparations, carpet purchase, raya plans, handbag du jour, holidays, job interview, weight loss methods, postgraduate coursework topics. Of course the inevitable usual matchmaking discussion also emerged.

I looked at MBF and silently mouthed 'Help'. She grinned.

I am impressed that they STILL have other friends to matchmake me with. Nonetheless I know they mean well and they care about me :)

Previously this topic was a somewhat taboo to me -- I used to violently decline each time this issue is brought up. They would stoically insist for weeks and I would reluctantly go with a whole army batallion and arrange for another friend to call me at a certain time so I would be able to excuse myself and conveniently leave the scene.

This carried on until MBA blasted me for being fearful and downright idiotic. He knew that I was happy with the way I run my life and brainwashed me -- being matchmade isn’t synonymous with being unhappy. He successfully gave me a new mantra -- there is nothing wrong with getting to know people. Which gave me some degree of courage. Perhaps a wee bit too much.

Because immediately after that I met a person who insisted that we should get to know each other solely because he thought I was aesthetically pleasing. Considering I was sporting my scruffy-and-too-late-for-shower-to-enjoy-my-extremely-late-Saturday-breakfast look when he first laid eyes on me, I relented. He turned out to be a bore, 40 (whatt? he didn't look it - credit to him), separated from his wife for the past 8 years, with children aged 12 and 7. I am horrible at calculations but I didn't even bother asking how come his son is 7 when he has separated for 8 years. Else than that, I experienced zero mental stimulation and more than once he wanted to stroke my face and took the liberty to voice out his analysis that I smoke far too much. I cut it short and never returned any of his phonecalls.

These are reasons why I find it uncomfortable being matchmade and these issues are not constricted; i.e. they’re bound to grow with more outings:

1. the person being matchmade is equally uncomfortable with the idea/is not keen with getting to know someone/is actually seeing someone and the matchmaker isn't aware of that fact.

2. if you do hit it off, the matchmaker/s will be gagging to know the day-to-day progress you have made and unintentionally leaves you feeling somewhat incomplete if the progress is the same as yesterday’s.

3. he could be a complete dufus and you would rather spend the time having all your molars from both your upper and lower teeth extracted at the very same time and recovering from it.

4. if you do enjoy his company, you can never be sure whether you are communicating with him too little/too much/too fast/too slow.

5. when you do communicate, there is no way of knowing whether he understands what you exactly mean. Yet if you explain things to him to rid of any possible misunderstandings, he sizes you up as a too eager psychotic nut rushing into things.

6. nobody, even yours truly, has yet to understand this habit of looking at things from 1,397 angles but still failing to overcome the fear.

Honestly, it is all extremely confusing business to me. But I still bother sometimes. Whatever.