My mother has been harassing me about why the matchmaker has been so quiet and how crying babies get milk (I’ve translated the Korean version of squeaky wheels getting oil) and how I need to be more aggressive with the matchmaker.  She doesn’t think my weekly texts to him are sufficient for him to focus his time and energy in finding my match.

I have been less concerned because he explained the process to me.  The computer analyzes my profile and creates a match pool.  The matchmaker’s admin staff sift through that pool and weed out the guys who’ve posted pictures of themselves drunk in sleevless t-shirts holding beer(s).  They send an e-mail to the ones that are promising, and then Michael (that’s the matchmaker) starts talking to them over e-mail and the phone.  When he explained this process, I realized that there won’t be any bad dates.  He is going through the bad dates for me.  So when Michael texted me on Monday to see if I had time for a call today, I braced myself for good news.

I just got off the phone with him, and I’m pretty discouraged.  He apologized that it’s taking so long to find someone, but my stance on male-female roles in relationships is weeding out a lot more men than he anticipated.  How many is a lot?  Over 100.  He and his team have been in touch with over ONE HUNDRED men (seventy of them in Texas) over the last four weeks who are not a good match for me.  When I pressed him on why they’re not a good match to see if my initial stance is something I could reconsider, he said no.  It boils down to the fact that all of these men believe that in a relationship, men should make more money than women, men should be more successful, and that men’s careers take priority over women’s.

This is not one of those issues where I can be flexible, and the matchmaker vehemently said that I shouldn’t even consider compromising.  This isn’t something I consider superficial, like height, or attractiveness, or whether he has a college degree.  I’m building a business.  Actually, I’m trying to build two businesses – the consulting work that I’ve been doing and also figuring out how to make a living writing the things that I want to write.  With hard work and persistence and some luck (much of which we make ourselves), both will be successful.  Even if both fail, the matchmaker said that compromising is a bad idea.  The example he gave was that if I married one of these guys, and then he lost his job for eight months while we lived on what I made, men like this are not equipped to deal.

Another thirty or so e-mails have gone out this week, and he thinks that there are at least three promising matches in that bunch.  In the meantime, I’m fighting the urge to lay blame for this dearth of men.  I swing between blaming my parents for raising me to work hard, use my brain, and strive for independence; blaming men’s parents for not raising their sons to be more nuanced in their beliefs; and blaming the world in general for being so f*ed up.

To end this post on a brighter note, here’s my recipe for mac and cheese.  I don’t make or eat mac and cheese anymore because of the whole pre-diabetic thing, but my second cousin’s 8-year-old is super interested in cooking.  She and her sisters stopped eating boxed mac and cheese after their friend’s mom made it from scratch for them.  I wrote down my recipe for her, she made it, and her little sister said it was the best mac and cheese in the whole world.  It has been an absolute thrill to see the pictures and hear about her success in the kitchen.  It feels like the possibilities that she’s faced with are limitless, which is where every 8-year-old should be.

Auntie C’s (and now I’s) Mac and Cheese

1T butter

1T flour

½ c milk

2 c shredded cheese

Cooked pasta

In a large frying pan, melt the butter over medium heat.  When butter is completely melted, add flour and stir until flour is cooked through, about three minutes.  Add milk and stir until mixture is smooth.  Add cheese and stir until mixture is smooth.  Pour over cooked pasta and serve.

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