Case in point, this ad showed up today on not one, but *two* different websites I often frequent:
Am I the only person out there who constantly needs to be reminded of my age? I mean, I really feel that my organs are a youthful 24 at the most. And my music collection screams teenage angst, not "your biological clock is ticking." I forget at times how old the rest of the world sees me.
Like any good curious blogger, I visited cougarlife.com, you know, in the name of science. I was greeted with this:
I mean, yes, this site is reminding me of my aging spinster status, and assumes I not only must have at least one divorce behind me based on my Amazon shopping habits, but I've probably popped out a kid by now as well. Possibly worse is that these same website analytics that had the twisted sense of humor to cause this ad to pop up in my feed, are probably mercilessly judging the desperation implied by my love of 1990s romantic comedies on Netflix RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND.
However, cougarlife.com still has hope that a HOT YOUNG STUD IS OUT THERE LOOKING FOR ME RIGHT NOW! I mean, yeah, younger guys ("cubs" is actually the politically correct term for this breed, as this website points out) have never been my thing, but you've got to admit they've got stamina. And they'll probably encourage my love of Rihanna and late night bar hopping more than any straight guy in his 30s ever would.
Hell, my future prince charming is probably busy doing a keg stand with his other newly-initiated frat bros while I type this very sentence. All I have to do is wait for him to realize he's into older women, find couarlife.com, create a profile, and be within a 15-mile radius of me. There's a fairy tale in there somewhere. If I'm not planning my wedding to this guy by this time next year, then I just don't understand life at all anymore.
Thank you, Internet, for reminding me that there's a large probability my soulmate hasn't even been born yet. I like them odds!