Whatever happened to the weather and your health?

Dating in one's older years is not for the timid. In fact it is downright masochistic! Yet there is something in each of us that spurs us to find a partner. Even when keeping the human species procreating is far from our minds and a long distant memory in our bodies; we keep searching. What is it that inspires us, draws us, makes us yearn for connection of a partner to partner kind? I am not talking sex here - though I suppose that is part of it. It sure beats pulling weeds - no DUH! But dating, especially as an adult, is ridiculous, humiliating, tedious and more awkward that that birds and bees talk between parent and child!

I am attempting to keep moving forward in a healthy fashion, to be reminded that I am a valuable and viable human being. While I may have a few miles on me, I view myself as a great catch. After the painful crash and burn of my last relationship - all of 8 years...I am out there dating again. Barfly is not one of my descriptors, nor do I want it to be. So the obvious solution is online dating. Don't believe all those glowing adds on TV, it's not so easy. For example, one site that takes great pains to match their members according to chemistry and personality compatability sent me Mr. X.

I met Mr. X last night for "coffee", though we had milkshakes instead. I personally believe in truthful advertising, not everyone does. My date professed to be 59, but I had to ask myself upon seeing him, "59 in which century, certainly not the 21st!" He had to be 70 if a day. In the 75 mintues of our date he occupied 65 of those minutes with his opinions, anecdotes and experiences. Which left me wondering why he bothered to aske me out in the first place, a miror would have been more appropriate. After my date's 65 minute monologue, I can now tell you exactly what goes into an ethonal chemical solution used to convert endless tubes of sluicing sewage to remain liquid enough to travel through Alaskan Tundra at 65 degrees below freezing to end up at it's destination - the waste disposal plant. I know what my date did - in graffic detail when this huge tube of goo clogged and stuck. And to think I thought I had it bad when my toddler flushed his rubber duckie down the drain! Draino and Rotorooter of that magnitude is not an option. What did my verbose date do, well imagine a giant hair dryer blowing warm heat down those endless tubes until gunk thawed and slipped on by and beyond. Somehow listening to this tale made watching him drink his brown coffee milkshake very difficult.

The remainder of the conversation had me trying to freeze an interested smile on my face as he explained how to conjugate Japanese verbs. If you are wondering, no I did not ask for this lesson, he volunteered, as he had volunteered with the previous frozen poop. When that monologue dwindled, in a fully self confident manner he inquired whether I thought we would have more conversations like this one? In other words, was I smitten? My mind reeled in horror, I saw myself mummified, much like Mother Bates in Hitchcock's movie "Psycho", and Mr. X, obliviously droning on and on and on. "I don't think we're a match" I said. I could see he was taken aback and asked "why?"

What could I say, my mind floundered helplessly grasping for any inspiration that was not outright rude. "I think you need someone more cerebral" I answered. To which he replied, "It's ok, I don't mind if you aren't as cerebral as I am. It doesn't take two smart people to be in relationship."

I give up, sometimes dating is just stinks. Some folks are single for a reason, and the rest of us wonder when paired with Clueless In Alaska here why I waited 75 minutes before I ran as quickly and as politely as possible, for the proverbial "hills". Onward, I have another "coffee" date next weekend with Mr. K, a former plumber now turned piano tuner...now where do you supppose that conversation could go??? Oh joy.

Blogging Newbie

Well hello, here I am learning how to Blog. God only knows why, it seems the faster I run to keep up the futher I fall behind; 21st Century living is not for the faint of heart nor the non techies! But I aim to refresh my technology skills! Perhaps, if nothing else it will stave off a sedentary brain and inactive fingers! I am certainly learning new things and if that keeps one young, well it will be good for me. Not to mention possible job security - nope probably not, but one can hope.

The problem so far with blogging, that I can see is that like much of the internet it feels private. I am typing away, thoughts are flowing and out they come. But unlike journaling - with which I am familiar, this will be "published" with the flick of a click and snap - public. Now grantted who in their right mind would find the meanderings of my absent mind interesting...good grief. In anoniminity there is safety - perhaps. But it is a blurring of bounderies and what is fit for public consumption and what should remain private. My mother's admonision of dirty laundry not being aired in public seems far away and quaint. What would you blog mom? Recipes, hints from Heloise? Or would it be "Peyton Place" pot boilers, I wonder? Well I will blog and we shall see what comes evolves. At this point I feel rather silly. But here goes, "hello" cyber world.

I have learned one thing so far about blogging. If I go looking for the spell check button I am apt to loose the whole darn thing and never find it again. So much for yesteday's 45 minute blog. Oh I assure you it was lovely, lyrical and completely irreplaceable. Once it was lost it was beyond resurrecting. I've never lost a journal entry. I like good old paper and pen, but the keyboard typing does keep better pace with my thoughts. But even for the ease of convenience, I prefer the more leisurly pace of actual writing on paper, seated under a spring cherry tree in full bloom, hidden thoughts and ink smudged pages, an absent minded scribble and doodle hiding in the corner, to be dashed off, poetry, deep thoughts, a love note or even a "to do" list - and then tucked in a book. It falls out years later and suddenly you are transported back in time to that exact moment, caught in the emotion and smelling the soft fragrance of cherry blossoms and the young boy who stole a kiss as he hurried past off to class. The memory caught in time and words. Something I can never see a computer capturing. Who ever heard of a leather, hand tooled lap top? Now a book, a journal is something else again. If only the ease and quickness of keyboarding came with them - the best of both worlds.