This post was originally made on Facebook on February 15, 2015. It was the day after Valentine’s Day. A propitious time to start a beautiful love affair.
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I am very excited to report that this sexy girl wants to be Facebook friends with me! She has no other friends yet, and she has posted three new profile pictures in the past 20 minutes on a brand naughty-spanking new account, and I am her FIRST CHOICE! The honor I feel can hardly be expressed. Her name is Amanda Alhassan, and she is self employed. I do not know where she currently lives, but she was raised in Ghana, where she attended the University of Ghana. I feel we may be soul mates.
I know she is real. She has to be. Just glance through my friends list and you will see that she totally fits the user profile of my average botanically-obsessed Facebook connection. Plus the fact that my favorite holiday, Valentine’s Day, was yesterday must mean that this is a sign from the heavens.
Cactophiles come in all shapes and sizes. I’ll let you all know how our relationship progresses.
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Let the comments commence:
Joey: But will she win over your heart (and bank account)? 😀
Me: I will give it all for love, Joey. YOLO. I think she will be happy living off grid in the desert with me. I hope that my solar power system can support her hair dryer habit, but that is my only concern.
Me: Whoa Rebecca! Let’s not rush things! I want to set a two-week engagement period first….
Joey: You’ll know if she’s “the one” if she has a desire to live alone with you in the desert amongst the cacti.
Me: Is that sarcasm ML? You are not going to be the Best Man at our wedding if this keeps up.
Me: HEARTBREAK and DESPAIR! Her profile has been removed! Vaporized by star-crossed forces beyond our earthly control! She was but a candle in the wind. Our hour-long relationship will live in my heart forever. Oh, to suffer the outrageous slings and arrows of unfortunate love.
OK, I’ll drop the Shakespearean melodrama and go light some memorial incense and do a healing cleanse ceremony now. Be back shortly.
Me: Let’s hear it for Francois, everyone! Give the man a round of applause!
No slow clapping, folks. This is a serious thread.
Karen: Dammit. 🙁 I shall sit here in the corner and suck on my cholla infused lollipop.
Karen: I know the 3rd bridesmaid’s opinion doesn’t count for much, but she looks like HIGH MAINTENANCE to me . She may desire more than the occasional mud spa offered at your facilities.
Vito: Can she cook ?
Peter: Spammer, or something, I would ignore her request 😉
Erik: That look in her eyes says, “I wanna live off the grid, tickle your root-ball, and manhandle your saguaro”. She’s your sweet little succulent.
Me: My precious Jewel Lady is actually NOT Nigerian. She is from Ghana, where she has studied at the University of Ghana. It says so on her profile. That is irrefutable proof that she’s real. I am however concerned that her account has been hacked. I shall write and inform Amanda of this.
I’ll bet you thought virtually all Ghanaians were black. Well they are not. Some are totally lily white. Especially when they go to University.
Peter: Her account hasn’t been hacked, it is a spammer. It’s big business in Africa. As Frederick said, Nigeria is where most are from
Fred: I hate to be the one to break this to you, I truly do, but your Ghana beauty is more than likely knuckle dragging, carpet-backed Boris from the U.S.S.R. From the convenience of the local express internet cafe he has created a fictitious character modeled after the fabled Russian mail order brides of his homeland. The geography is off however. There are MANY beautiful black African women, but Boris has correctly gauged the racist hatred that this country is known for and chosen a BAYWATCH BARBIE persona instead.
(Me, in 2019: Aren’t people who don’t understand satirical subtext amusing? Fred isn’t necessarily wrong on the second half of his comment, however….)
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Colin: lol! When I grow up, I want to be a Cactophile just like Jan. Then all the girls will like me…
Me: (Sigh.) Thank you Rita. Yes.
Rita: Sorry to wake you up to this type of reality Jan… Hope the right type of girl comes along for you… I am sure that there are still nice girls out there even on Facebook…
Me: My heart will heal with time. And with cacti. Thank you for your concern. 🙂
David: Damn…. You’re about as Sarcastic as I am! Gotta Love it! Cacti are good for the heart!
Rita: Also, internet viruses are often inserted in these types of pictures, make sure that your computer did not get a hit… This is for real, an Australian bird site got totally taken over by porn and the administrator had to change the name of the site…David:
Not from her… She’s Blonde!
Me: My Dream Lady didn’t pass along any viruses to me. Unless of course she was asymptomatic, which does happen at times. I think my computer is okay however. I’ve got Norton.
Rita: This is another reason why Facebook shuts them down… Blonde and internet viruses go together well unfortunately since the other reality is that these are often sent from Eastern Europe… Anyway, it’s all very funny until it happens to you…
Michael: Rita, what was the name of that Australian Bird site? I just want to warn others.
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Mitch: I’m keeping my fingers crossed!
Me: My friends are all slightly cracked. I like them that way. 😉
Rebecca: Oh what’s the status Jan? I haven’t received my wedding invite yet ;P
Steve: Did she tell you how to make $10,000/hour yet, or sell you official Oakley sunglasses at $1 each pair? She’s a keeper!
Me: You’re a Wild Child, Rusty. Just like my Mandykins.
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Postscript with the benefit of four years of wisdom gained through heartbreak: There are plenty more Ghanaian and Nigerian fish in the sea. And while none will ever be as special as hyper-blonde Amanda Alhassan briefly was, perhaps I will find the fortitude to post some of them online someday too. Because such tragic, fleeting beauty and soulful connectivity should not be limited just to one Person Of Cactus.
Perhaps she was discontinued because of her prickly nature!
Facebook has a way of puncturing inflated romantic dreams. I’ve still not fully recovered from the loss.