Matchmaker, Matchmaker
Today I was going to treat you all to some rather awesome pictures, but for some reason, Target's photo people messed up my photos again, and so you will all have to wait to be inspired.
So I thought I would complain about matchmakers instead.
First, let me confess that I have, at one time or another (or a lot more than that, too), contemplated matchmaking. I think there are several appealing things about being a matchmaker. For anyone who has even a small toe worth of romantic inclination, there is something magical about the process of two average people becoming absolutely non-average to each other. And, of course, if you manage to be a part of introducing them, you get your fifteen seconds of fame every time the smitten couple shares their "How we met story" for the next seventy-five years.
But I think there are other things at work in matchmaking. I imagine the satisfaction that is to be had over pairing slacks with a snazzy shirt is just a faint shadow of the satisfaction of matching more permanent arrangements. He's nice, and she's sweet... what a perfect match! It must be so frustrating to these dear people to run into the small detail of multi-dimensionally complex people.
But I say, five attempts to matchmake in four days?
What is it, Spring or something?
So I thought I would complain about matchmakers instead.
First, let me confess that I have, at one time or another (or a lot more than that, too), contemplated matchmaking. I think there are several appealing things about being a matchmaker. For anyone who has even a small toe worth of romantic inclination, there is something magical about the process of two average people becoming absolutely non-average to each other. And, of course, if you manage to be a part of introducing them, you get your fifteen seconds of fame every time the smitten couple shares their "How we met story" for the next seventy-five years.
But I think there are other things at work in matchmaking. I imagine the satisfaction that is to be had over pairing slacks with a snazzy shirt is just a faint shadow of the satisfaction of matching more permanent arrangements. He's nice, and she's sweet... what a perfect match! It must be so frustrating to these dear people to run into the small detail of multi-dimensionally complex people.
But I say, five attempts to matchmake in four days?
What is it, Spring or something?
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