IN WHICH I AT LAST GET OVER THE HOT GUY or MOVING ON LIKE A SHARK

Finally, FINALLY, I have given up carrying a torch for One Syllable (refer to first several or so blog entries and my New Years one, if you’re puzzled).  I mean, what could I do further?  I practically put myself naked on the dining room table, decorated with sushi like Samantha in Sex in the City (figuratively folks, and for the record I’m most definitely a CHARLOTTE, not a Samantha), and he could not deliver, in fact, frankly, he acted like a teen-age girl.  However, because I respect his profession and privacy, I won’t elaborate further.

So it’s finished, kaput, finis, etc., and I might add, before it even started up a second time, but I suppose that is best. So hopefully all of you who had alarms going “ding, ding, ding…” when I mentioned “do-over” will be mollified.  As I’ve told several of my friends… I’m not a masochist and even I, as much as I long for something, can see the writing on the wall.

So now, I have many other little things in the hopper.  Nothing concrete.  I did have an interesting exchange today on my favorite free site… guy emails the following:

“Does a real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?”

I should explain.  At the end of my profile I say that people can contact me if they’re done exploring their feminine sides and they open the door for someone other than themselves. 

I did steal that line from one of my friends who’s even more cynical about this than I am. Oh, did I admit that?  Well, again, taking from what I said up a couple of paragraphs, I’d have to be a masochist not to be a little cynical and a little protective at this point, but I do press on – like a shark as I also have said.

So, back to the conversation:

         “Does a real man ever finish exploring his feminine side?” he queried.

“In my opinion, yes,” I wrote.

“Would you consider sleeping with me on the first date?”

“I would consider many things, but the distance is just too much, sorry,” (he lives 63 miles away).

He persisted and I now ignore. You can do that.

Another gentleman, on the same site, had a photo he posted wearing gym shorts (from the 80’s in my estimation), running shoes and socks and that’s all, she wrote.   He had contorted himself into some kind of stretching position, which was supposed to, I guess, show everyone how limber he was.

One could take one’s imagination even further here.  That Gym Shorts Man might be adept at many of the more difficult positions of the Kama Sutra, but that’s only, again, in one’s imagination, and only again if one wanted to. 

I actually remember doing such stretches when I was taking Hapkido (a form of Korean Self-Defense).  So Gym Shorts Man wrote me a poem that was rich in sensual images and long on corniness. It had a huge ICK factor.

The only way to get rid of the cringiness was to send it to a couple of friends.  One, I think, nearly did a spit-take on her computer screen and said she nearly threw-up into her yogurt.  Another said she was throwing up in her mouth.  They were both bowled over in hilarity.  If I can’t share, if I have to spare the snark, I can’t do this!!

Not so nice of me, but, honestly, folks, one has little patience for those things at this point.  I also marvel at the things that some people think are charming.  Don’t despair, I was very kind and just said I was not one of those women to whom poetry initially appealed, but he could write me a nice note and I would respond.  He wrote something further poetical and I could no longer take it.  I don’t remember responding, I have an aversion to people who can’t follow simple directions.  He did write to me later on as well, but messages like that simply don’t provoke responses, certainly not for me.

I’ve been busy at it.  I’ve joined one more free site, which I’m a little skeptical about.  It has people from all over the world who just seem to want to waste time on-line.  We will not waste time, as there is no time to waste!

I have been getting in touch with people and have had some responses.  People get in touch with me, I sometimes respond as I’ve gone back to my old way of doing things… I just can’t be rude.  If they don’t like it, I don’t really care.  One of my friends suggested writing to 5 people everyday.  That actually might be a good idea, because if one does that, one barely remembers or registers who hasn’t responded, so one’s ego isn’t too bruised in the process.

I have persuaded a friend to go back on Match and have cautioned her on the following, so some more lessons.  You can’t get invested in ANYONE until you at least meet them.  There are loads of people who just love the sound of their keyboard and email and email and email until you think, good grief, enough already.  You write, you wink, you nudge, you do a couple of back and forths and then if they don’t want to meet, well, that’s it.  Frankly, I can even do without the long and drawn out phone calls some people want to indulge in.  I believe it may be just another dodge – another way to delay the inevitable.

Just meet me and if we like each other, you can have my number.

Really.

IN WHICH I SAY HAPPY NEW YEAR or I SLOW DOWN

Miss me?

I know it’s been a couple of months and I feel terrible that I haven’t been as scrupulous about writing this blog.  However, I guess there are times in your life when you just run out of steam.

I have certainly missed writing, but I have to admit, I didn’t miss all this dating nonsense.  However, I am not quitting, I’m sort of in a holding pattern.  I took myself off of the Fitness site since I really haven’t met anyone decent there since last summer, and since it’s a paying site and since I really don’t like that my age isn’t accurate, off I went.

I have had lots of hits and nibbles, this time from much younger guys.  They are most definitely eye candy and one was interesting enough to meet as a friend, but their follow through is even worse than men in their 40’s and 50’s.

There has been a development – a possible do-over with One Syllable.  I hear the collective groaning and I hear warnings flying at me at the speed of light and I take them all, really I do.

I went back and read over my entries about that whole thing and honestly, though I was hurt about it then, I am in a completely different place at least so I hope.  However, he could just repeat the whole pattern again, and if that is the case, I have been warned. I am trying to hold myself above this particular fray.

Having said that, I am still on two sites, and I am still getting texted by the serial texter from last year.  I am tempted to be impolite and not answer him, but he’s pretty harmless I suppose.

So another few updates, and I hope this isn’t terribly boring. 

My dentist set me up with a guy.  He was sure I would like him, he was a lawyer, age appropriate and at least had good dental hygiene. This may not seem like a great deal to some, but there is something to be said about it! 

At any rate, he and I played phone tag for a good long time.  Actually, I would have to say from the beginning of December to the beginning of January.  I was out of town and I guess he was just unavailable, however, he did persevere and I thought it was a good sign.

We met at the local Starbucks (OF COURSE) and I, of course, made my usual instant assessment of no attraction.  However, as usual, I was willing to give the guy a chance.  We talked for a while and it turned out he was a human rights lawyer, and the more he talked the more excellent he became and the more unworthy I obviously was.

I made a statement about not liking the extremists of a particular group and I could see him shutting up like a turtle, completely withdrawing his head and tail.  It was almost comical and so obvious. 

Did I mention he had bad breath?

I contacted another guy on Match who was quite welcoming but after one phone message and one contact when he was just about to get on a plane when he promised a call-back, that is all I have heard.

Now you can see why I haven’t written in a while.  Perhaps I just need to regain my enthusiasm.  I hope I’m not easily discouraged, but at the moment, I need to take a breather.

After that, I’ll have my friend chose guys for me instead of me doing the dirty work.  Maybe her choices will be better.

We’ll see.

IN WHICH I GET OVER IT AND MOVE ON or MOONLIGHT, MAGNOLIAS, AND BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

Deep breath. 

It’s fine; I’m just moving on from that last entry.  No worries, and not too much leftover angst.  Hopefully Janus is growing up and learning about rejection since he told me he’d only been on the site for about a month. Either that, or he’ll go back to his mother (with whom he is pictured in one of his photos) and cry a little on her shoulder.

I wish there was a way of warning people about the denizens of the site, but that could be horribly abused and we definitely wouldn’t want that.

I have slowed down a bit.  A slight weariness in all of this and the tolerance for all the nonsense is getting less and less.  I obviously need some kind of rejuvenation.  I’m sure it will happen.  I am the eternal optimist. I want world peace.

I did finally see Mr. Atlanta.  It was interesting to say the least.  We spoke a few times on the phone and he emailed me a couple of times as well.  Saying things like he was going the extra mile for me and that he was my Hotlanta connection.  Yes, I see you recoil too. Later I was told that I just don’t understand the different sections of the country, and that perhaps to a Southern lady, his line might have seemed utterly charming.

That going the extra mile stuck in my craw.  It just annoyed me, but I tried to brush it off.  After all, perhaps sectional differences (that have nothing to do with the Civil War) are something valid to consider.

He left it up to me where we would go and what we would do, since we were, as he said, in my home court.  Did I mention I hate sports analogies?  Besides, I am always bereft in this department so I just copied what I did the week before sans the friends.  I made reservations in an excellent restaurant, dressed, took a deep breath and off I went.  At least I knew I would eat well and I could make a quick getaway.

Since he is not a native and I made him drive fairly far, I was not surprised that he was late.  He did, however, get there.  Mr. Atlanta is a lawyer and a ballroom dancer, neither of which were exactly evident in his mode of dress.  Suffice it to say that his jacket, some sort of hounds tooth in black and white, almost hurt my eyes and I was certain it would strobe on TV. He took my hand in his and kissed it, as he said in his profile he would do.

Okay, while not exactly charmed, I thought that he was at least pleasant.

He sat down, looked at the menu and continually grabbed his lapels as though he was straightening out his visual headache of a jacket.  Though he was, as I said, in no way unpleasant, he most assuredly had a routine.  He was smooth and practiced, and basically had a monologue going, telling me little bits of this and that and really very testy about interruption.  I shouldn’t say testy that’s not accurate, he simply ignored questions or statements like “I know…” or “I’ve heard that….” and pushed on completely unfazed, undaunted and unaware. 

Not in his repertoire?  He didn’t pursue or answer, he simply soldiered on.  He almost seemed to have the whole thing timed down to the part when he needed to tell several jokes. 

I have to say that I HATE jokes…I love laughing, I love wit, but stories usually either leave me cringing or rolling my eyes. I so rarely find them funny, and I so rarely DON’T know what’s coming.  My lack of hilarious laughter left him unmoved, and he continued unceasing and relentless.

I kept asking myself throughout the meal was he attractive enough to ignore the deficiencies of his actual presence…what I mean is his being in the moment and with me as opposed to going through his entire sequence of date-night entertainment. I concluded that the answer would have to be in the negative.

He, in his Southern Gentleman mode, walked me to my car and took my hand again.  Eyes were definitely rolling in my mind….

“Do you know why,” he queried, “I’m kissing your left hand?”

“No,” I said obligingly.

“The English kiss a lady’s right hand, but the French kiss a lady’s left hand because it’s closer to the heart.”

I had it!

“Do you know that you’re not supposed to kiss the hands of unmarried ladies?”

Bull’s-eye.

“Well, that’s a matter of debate.”

Actually, I’m right about this.

And, I knew I’d never hear from him again.  I hadn’t fallen for the Rhett Butler/Ashley Wilkes charm and he loped off, hoping for someone, I suppose, either more impressionable and naïve or at least more polite that I was.

Moving on.

In the last week I’ve had some more nibbles and it’s possible I’ll meet one or both or not…as you can see I’m temporarily running out of steam, but no worries…I’ll get my mojo back – promise.

Was reading about the 10 big lies that men tell on dating sites.  None of them were news to me.  It’s interesting, guys don’t lie about their age the way women do, but they do lie about height and weight.  Women lie about weight.  Also, evidently men lie or enhance their careers to the nth degree as do women and according to the article, they even say that they know celebrities to make themselves seem more desirable and interesting.  Living in Lala Land, knowing celebrities only interests me temporarily.

Imagine bragging about knowing Kim Kardashian.

Lastly, supposedly, they lie about their income as well, but since I don’t care about that, I never worry.  Luckily, I can say with great assurance, that I have never lied about anything except when people wanted me to lie about my age and I did that on two sites, one of which I’m not on anymore.

In the article the owner of a particular site called BeautifulPeople.com was interviewed at great length.  I looked into this site as I thought at least the people would be good looking as I thought they would be fit on the Fitness site.

So your intrepid reporter went over to the site and saw that you register and post a picture and people of the opposite sex vote on whether you are attractive enough to be on the site.  I must have left my brains outdoors for an hour since I actually registered, put one of my good pics on the site and started frantically checking every few minutes to see how I was doing.

I was in, I was out, I was in, I was out.  They had a little red and green line with a little circle that moved up and down in the red and green as the votes came in.  I had some positive and was in green territory and then went into red territory.  To be scrupulously fair, they don’t tell you how many negative votes you get, but only the positive votes.

It was morning, and I’m assuming that most people weren’t yet perusing the dating sites… that seems more of an afternoon, I’m getting bored and day is winding down kind of activity.

I went for a run and had an epiphany. 

What a REPUGNANT site!!!!  Hello Ilana, where was your sense.  You’ll be happy to know that I came home and took down my profile at once.  I did notice I had 13 positive votes and someone had awarded me a virtual diamond. 

Frankly, I’d have taken it if it were real.

IN WHICH I TELL A CAUTIONARY TALE or REALLY YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS STUFF UP

I suppose it was inevitable.

I’ve been doing this over a year now and most of my experiences have been fun, hilarious, disappointing, hurtful, but in no way horrible – except perhaps for the guy who looked like he rolled out of bed and had a weird skin disease.

Had recently gone back on the free site that I had thought really atrocious for reasons I can’t explain.  What can I say?  I thought I’d just give it one more try.  I uploaded the new photos, wrote a little more in my profile.  Yes, I still have a car, but I was able to put in more, say more (again, not that I in any way shape or form think that anyone really reads profiles).  Anyhow, there is a feature on this site that shows you a series of photos of bachelors also on the site and asks you if you want to meet them.

I was bored one day, and was rifling through the pictures and just idly yes, this guy is cute, I’d meet him, and no this guy is not for me, I wouldn’t meet him if the world was coming to an end.  It was virtually a slide show and I was doing mostly “no’s” and a couple of “yes’s”.

Lo and behold, the ones I said “yes” to all wrote to me.  It was nice in a way, so automatic, and easy.

I thought, maybe this is the way.  No reading just looking, just the response to the physical.

Two of the gentlemen I really wasn’t interested in after a cursory glance at their profiles, but one looked rather nice.  He was tall enough, attractive enough and quite literate in his profile.  I actually enjoyed reading it; there was an intelligence and sense of humor present that is somewhat rare for these things.  So, as the pickle man said in Crossing Delancy, this one I’ll meet.

I’ll call him Janus for reasons that will soon become obvious.

We emailed back and forth, just a few times.  He was the usual, complimentary, yadda, yadda, yadda, and was swift to say, let’s meet.  I said fine as endless emailing was starting to get on my nerves.  We made a date for a place very near to me, which was good.  Minimum of effort, I felt and possibly maximum results.

Traffic was bad that evening that we met.  However, Janus did show.  He was polite, a little too gushing in his compliments (I eventually told him he was a little over the top), and self-deprecating and smiling when I told him he was OTT. He was only a few years younger than me, but made a point of telling me I didn’t look my age.

We sat together chatting for about two hours.  He was eager, energetic and did most of the talking.  In fact, I really didn’t get a word in, to be honest.  I thought he might be a little nervous, which is fine, after all, who of us doesn’t approach this with some nervous trepidation?  As the date wore on, I knew he was into me, however, there was something nagging at me about him.  I knew he seemed nice and I should see him again, but something was preventing me from entering in the idea wholeheartedly.  He was saying things like we’d go on multiple dates, and that was bothering me for some reason as well.  It seemed a little presumptuous.  Anyhow, as we were waiting for my car, he asked me if I wanted to see him again.

My mother seemed to be standing there telling me that I ought to give him a second chance.  See him one more time and then make up your mind.  I prevaricated a bit, trying to think of when I could see him.  He suggested a day, I wasn’t sure, and then I said to him, let’s communicate over the weekend (no, he didn’t suggest a weekend date).

Several days later, it was a Saturday morning, he texted me and asked how my weekend was going so far, and how nice it was to meet me.  I was still hesitant and trying to think of response that evening when I went out to dinner with friends.

One of the diners snatched my phone and texted him back: “Great.  Having dinner with friends.  It was nice meeting you too.” 

Harmless so far, right?

He promptly texted back saying “Lucky you”, which I wasn’t reading as snarky, but just brief, and then a second text asking me if I wanted to meet him again.  Once again, I hesitated.  I didn’t answer again.  In fact I didn’t answer for two days.

That Monday evening I thought, this isn’t nice, I really have to answer him and have to say something that will not hurt his feelings but convey the fact that I don’t want to see him.  So, nicey nice me says: “I’m sorry I haven’t answered, I didn’t mean to be rude.  I’ve decided to re-think computer dating and take myself off the site (editor’s note: I did.)  I just want to take a breather and wish you the best of luck.”

I went to take a shower and when I returned there was already a message.  It was the most vile, obscene, nasty, misogynistic  message I’ve ever received in my life.  I was shocked, shaky and not just a little alarmed.  I had never been talked to in this way and felt extremely violated

I called a friend and talked with her about it, she tried to calm me down and told me not to be upset as worse had been said to her.  This is meant to make you feel better, but it rarely does.

I started searching my mind wondering if there was any way he could identify me further or find me.  It was really that upsetting to me.  Luckily, no more messages were received and I didn’t hear from him again.

It was such a turnabout.  So much the opposite of how he had behaved when he saw me.  Perhaps I saw the desperation and hysteria behind all the compliments and perhaps that was what repelled me.  Another friend said I had dodged a bullet and frankly, I am proud that for once, my instincts were correct and I actually followed them.

Oh, and I forgot the corker… he had the nerve to say in the message I was too old for him anyway!!

You’ll all be relieved to know I wasn’t discouraged, and got together with a much nicer, normal guy.  I told him what happened and he said he had my back.  It was kind of him, however, he elaborated saying that he was worried about me doing the online dating thing and for all I know I could be meeting the next Ted Bundy.

I honestly don’t think that’s going to be the case, and I am pressing on.  I know the rules of internet dating safety – very well, so please, one and all, don’t worry.

Just to lighten up this entry and give you all a bit of a laugh, I have included a self-description that I read from username: Mikiehotass:

I am ATTRACITIV, HONEST, and PASSOINAT.CARING.I am a one woman man that would never cheat on my woman i am not that type.I like the out doors camping,pic-nics mountains go for romantic walks on the beach.Like to explor new places going on week end road trips.I a hard worker i own a small l;andscape business.Have good values and morals.A good family man like to have a family. I am very will mannered. I PEREER THAT YOU LIVE IN SAN DIEGO

I am looking for a long trem relationship that lead to marrrriage.
looking for attracttiv female long hair and must be hot looking
with similar interest Iand goals
THAT YOU ARE VERY ATTRACTIVE AND AFFECTIONATE

This is lifted directly from his profile.  This is not a joke, and I looked, English IS his first language.

I despair, truly!

IN WHICH I SUBJECT YOU TO ALL I’VE BEEN SUBJECTED TO or DIARY OF A MAD ONLINE-DATER

I thought you should all suffer a little… or a lot.  At least endure the pain of reading a title that ends with a preposition… if that isn’t disturbing enough. 

Actually what I thought is that I’d catalogue my contacts for a little while to give you the absolute idea of what the experience is like.  As Edward R. Murrow used to say,

“YOU ARE THERE…”

Poor souls.

On my fitness site I was contacted by two, count ‘em, guys from Washington State.  I’m not sure why out-of-staters contact me.  Perhaps they just can’t resist those new photos SM took of me.  Really, I’m baffled.  However, they did. 

The two of them were most definitely hunks and one, whom I mentioned last time, kept asking me if he was crossing my mind.  I bit once with him and said yes, and got an effusive email back, then nothing.  Then a little while later yet another query if I was crossing his mind.

At that point, I thought, demented, and haven’t heard since. 

The other guy just dropped off like a little autumn leaf – the way most of them do. The rate of attrition is very high.  As you might have guessed, it’s basically about 99.9%. As I said in another entry, it’s as though they like to get their little tootsies wet but if the waves come in too close, they jump away.

On my favorite free site was contacted by a gentleman with the lovely yet subtle moniker HORNYMoFoFor69.

Charming, I thought.

Wanted to know if I wanted to hang out and have some fun.  After breathing out and breathing in several times, I wrote a polite and mature (he is 31) note thanking him for his interest and telling him that I was looking for something a little more substantial.

Undaunted, he wrote back that I could be his girlfriend, and wasn’t that substantial enough? 

Exhale.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Another man, Mr. Potatohead, near enough to what he called himself on the site, wrote that he thought that I seemed pretty neat.  Reminds me of what Kevin Costner thought of Madonna and her performance in one of her documentaries, I think it was Truth or Dare.  How she ridiculed him for that statement --though she ridicules fans who are stupid enough to bring her flowers she doesn’t like, so I don’t think I’ll put myself in her company.

I read through his profile and saw that he cautioned women who voted a certain way not to contact him. I wrote him back and thanked him for thinking that I was neat, but that he might not think so if he knew my voting patterns and that I was sorry.  His response was, if I was sorry for how I voted in the past, it was forgivable.

I said I was more sorry about how I voted in the present, and then received something incomprehensible from him.  It was all just too complicated for me, so I decided no answer was the best course.

From the land of moonlight and magnolias, I received a message from a courtly gentleman who named himself after one of the great heroes of the South.  Again, I’m not sure what this long distance thing is, though, something whispers to me that they may be married or otherwise encumbered, and, perhaps, this is how they get their vicarious thrills.   At any rate, this man was at least age appropriate, nice looking, and enjoyed competitive ballroom dancing. 

I am all admiration. 

I don’t know how to dance.  When I go to weddings, I always dread it if someone wants to fox trot or otherwise partner dance.  However, I do greatly esteem those who can. 

He told me (after giving me several stories to illustrate this fact) that he could, from just looking at someone and reading their profile, intuit whether there would be any chemistry between them or not. Evidently, he thought there would be with me.

I wish I had that gift; it would have saved me a lot of expenditure on green tea.

He’s called me several times, so the jury is out on him.  He says that he comes to LA a lot.  So did the other guys from Washington State, and another guy from Idaho. 

And so does the ex-Marine from San Diego, who thinks I’m the most beautiful girl on the fitness site. Very flattering, so I looked at his photos and he has the most amazing set of tattoos.  I’m not one for body art, so I’m not impressed, but he did have one of the most developed backs I’ve seen in a while.  Yes, on this site, no one hesitates to take off his or her shirt.

I’m sure you’re tired by now.  Perhaps your head is spinning with the sheer number of oddities that I endure.  There is, dangling at the moment, a gentleman who names himself after a superhero and talks about himself in the third person. 

My eyes roll heavenward. 

He has contacted me before and then disappeared, so when he wrote this time, I gently reminded him of this fact.  He said he remembered, but had met someone else and wasn’t a serial dater.  He was giving her a try in order to see what might develop.  She, however, appears not to have worked out, so he was now seeing if I was still interested.

It is all so fatiguing, but I’m putting Superman on the back burner for now, not because I’m vindictive, but because someone else has come forward and actually offered dinner!  Not just green tea, but full feeding, soup to nuts.

And, sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but if he’s nice, you won’t be hearing about him!

A SHORT MEDITATION or ENTRE’ACT DEUX

So many thoughts have been revolving in my head that I can’t remember what I’ve written here and what I have been blathering on and on to friends about ... however, there is definitely more to say.

I’ve figured out why the whole online process is so weird and you will be proud at the profundity of what I’m about to impart.  There may be a Nobel Prize in this for me. (Do they give them in sociology?)

There is absolutely NO context in online dating!  What I mean is that in the bad old days, prehistoric actually, the only way to meet someone was either face-to-face, in letters or on the telephone.  And, it was usually because your relatives, friends, or the Sears Roebuck Catalog had introduced you.

You had some kind of connection, some kind of framework, some kind of commonality even if it was just your brother’s girlfriend’s second cousin’s brother-in-law.  Because if this, you could gossip about the hapless friend who introduced you, or complain about the family member, or, if appropriate, bad mouth the acquaintances that made the arrangements.  It made for an interesting bond between two people and at least had the advantage of keeping the conversation stimulating and going for the interminable space of one date.

This is not the case today.

Now we have another matchmaker extraordinaire. 

It is your computer.

I mean, really?

Cogitate on that for a second.  YOUR COMPUTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The laptop or PC you’re peering at is your matchmaker, your yenta, your shodchenta, need I go on?

Okay, have you thought about it?  Are you appalled and hasn’t the utter unreality of the situation hit you between the eyes?  It certainly has me!  … and yet, I continue to do it, and with optimism.

Jeez, it’s sort of awful, though, isn’t it?

I have friends who say to me, Ilana, you’re an elegant, attractive, intelligent yadda, yadda, yadda, woman, surely you can meet people the old fashioned way?  (Don’t call me, Shirley).

You would think, eh?  However, in my case, I work in an environment where the nearest man is about 22 (not in my wildest cougar dreams!), and my writing friend is the aforesaid computer (erstwhile matchmaker… OMG!!!).  I’m simply not the type to strike up a conversation in the hardware store, or give come hither looks at gas stations.  The wall of ice is just too difficult for me to break.  That seems to be an unfortunate and enduring character flaw of mine.

A corollary to that whole meeting from the computer issue is the fact that it is easy to be a fantasist … you begin to imagine you’re in a relationship or at least at the beginning of a relationship with someone who has responded positively to (let’s face it) your photographs.  He or she says something flattering about them, you feel complimented and you begin to respond as though you had met that person, were flirting with and had a strong connection with them.

There again, it begins.  You start having that whole relationship IN YOUR HEAD!  Remember that? And, oh the falling to earth is extreme, and worse than usual because there’s absolutely no question about how foolish you’ve been.

So, I ask, what do you do?

It’s the oddest thing. 

There is a whole subset of our population that is over forty and unmarried.  It’s a new sociological phenomenon, and society has yet to become equipped to cope with it.  So you have singletons (as they call them in England) who are a certain age, don’t want to go to bars and clubs, usually the habitat of the twenty-something group, and don’t want to join the highly dreaded singles groups organized by churches and synagogues.  I can assure you there is no URGE there… not for miles!

As I quoted Queen Victoria in another entry:  There is no one here who is depressed.  May I add that there is no one here who is discouraged.  I am determined to use this wisdom to my benefit!

So what we do in the end is hang out with friends of the same sex, continue being a tolerated addition to married friends at dinners and other such outings, or sitting home, eating take-out and watching rom-coms with female relatives.  Yes, I’m talking to YOU!!

It’s just so old-fashioned, isn’t it?