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THE CASE OF THE MISSING MOJO

Elephant Soap

 

 

THE CASE OF THE MISSING MOJO

Cindy Maddera

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I had a really weak moment and ended up signing up for one of those online dating places. I did it to just see what was out there, but in order to see anyone, you have to sign up for at least the free service. So I half-hazardly filled out their questionnaire thingy, not taking it seriously at all. Almost immediately I got a "wink" followed by an email. Of course you can't read the emails unless you pay for the dating service. I am not about to do this because A. I'm not ready and B. the guy's name was Robinhood. Now I get about two emails a day from the dating service with new possible "matches" for me. You know that feeling you get while watching the awkward funny of the Office? This is how I find myself looking at these possible "matches". One guy's username ended in 1972, but his age was listed at 34. Either he just really liked that year and how it sounded tagged to his name or the dude is looking for a girl that can't do math. I don't think I'm the girl he's looking for. My favorite by far has got to be Tiberious_Spock. Tiberious_Spock. Yeah...I can't even....

I am not cruising for a relationship; I was just curious. And..well... I miss sex. This topic came up while we were having drinks with Amber at her favorite bar in Brooklyn. Amber said that this was an easy fix and that I'm perfectly adorable and could easily have any guy at the bar. No....you see? I don't think I can. And herein lies the problem. I've lost a bit of confidence. I've lost my mojo. I don't feel perfectly adorable at all. I look at those pictures of me in New York and I think I look puffy. And this hair? After all those years of short hair, I finally know what I look like with long hair. Bad. As in not good. There are too many mornings I get up and play the "What's the least amount I have to do to make myself presentable for work?" game. This means I am clean and wearing clean clothes. That's it. Hair is put in a bun wet and clothes don't necessarily match. But hey! I've put on pants!

And I realize by typing that last sentence out loud, I may sound depressed, which I am not. Well, I mean not any more so then what's required of this situation. The truth is, I'm just lazy. That, and I have never been the type of girl that spent much time on looking cute. I've never been much of a shopper and the real reason (not really) I became a yoga teacher was so I'd have a reasonable excuse for wearing yoga pants everyday. But I'm working on that. Recently I've started making clothing purchases that sit outside my comfort level. I even bought my first pair of skinny jeans a couple of weeks ago (size 8! I don't even know how that's possible). Last Friday, I wore my new red summer dress with heels to work. It was an attempt at making an effort. And it might have worked. Just a little. Because I caught a reflection of my legs in the elevator doors and people? I have smokin' hot legs. Huh. Who knew?

Any way, I'm working on gaining some confidence. I'm working on gaining some confidence for me. Not Tiberious_Spock.