I'm new to this lesbian business. I met my previous partner, David, online, after some whimsical exploration of eHarmony. (Seriously, if you ever want to kill some time and either be or pretend to be straight, filling out the profile is solid entertainment. If you have even more time, browsing your "matches" is even more fun. Some of those dudes work in the lumber industry, and how else are you going to read about lumberjacks?)
Lumberjacks aside, David's profile said he'd want his skillet on a desert island, and I found him on MySpace to see what the story was. That he eventually changed his e-mail nickname for me to "bitch whore" is an indication of what that story really was. But I was intrigued by his eHarmony profile and the unfamiliar upbeat, carpe-diem attitude behind what he wrote to me on MySpace. Now I wonder if I hear echoes of it in donor essays.
Someone says something sweet about hope and laughter, and I don't know if that's a lovely counterpoint to the cynicism and caution Heather and I espouse, or the kind of Pollyanna attitude that would annoy the hell out of us in person. Heather and I are different; I don't think we'd ever be matched on paper-- with or without family health history-- so why should we pick a man on paper?
Our friends Tricia and Brian came over last night to play Wii ping-pong and spades. We chatted about the donor search, and all agreed that Brian was just about the nicest, kindest (plus tallest and thinnest) guy we knew. But on paper? No way. He didn't complete his degree, but he's incredibly bright and well-read. His family is long-lived, but what was his GPA?
What does it mean? Are we kidding ourselves to even try? It's such a crap-shoot. We'd never pick Brian from the database, but he's one of our favorite people, and what if the person we do pick is someone we'd hate? Can we make someone who's good on paper as terrific as Brian by virtue of our love and care, or are we going to get somebody with no heart disease who's got pretension in his blood?
I thought it'd be like shoe-shopping, but now I wish someone would be for us.