Beginnings

You’ve Got Mail

The next year or so was spent hanging with my kids, creating memories with my new friends, keeping tabs on old friends and just living life.  I threw parties.  Lots of parties.  I love parties.  To entertain is one of my most favorite things to do.  Down to the last detail.  I threw Mother’s Day Brunch, 4th of July BBQ’s, Octoberfest, Birthday Parties, I was one stop on a traveling Memorial Day Party, you name it, there was a reason to celebrate.  And everyone was always welcome.  The more the merrier I always say.  That year or so consisted of kids activities and events, school projects, vacations, day trips to the beach and a myriad of other family friendly occurrences.  Then one day I realized it had been quite some time since I had kissed a man.  It wasn’t like I was thinking oh I need to kiss someone, it was more like in the moment of lighting the fireplace or putting on comfy socks it occurred to me….it had been a really really long time since a man had kissed me.  So I decided it was time.  Now one should not go out of their house at any given time searching for someone to kiss, cause this never turns out well, but, should you decide that online dating would help you narrow down those lips that should soon touch yours, go for it.  So I went on the all-encompassing internet and awaiting my inbox to blow up.  I put up photos and wrote what I thought to be a clever rendition of who I really was, accurate, but maybe minus a few intolerable choices that would certainly need to come up eventually but not in the opening scene.  So I hit send and the profile was live.  I watched it as if instantaneously something was going to erupt.  Like everyone out in internet land would know I am now available and stating to the world, come and get me. Apparently, much to my dismay it does not work this way and you actually have to do quite some work.  I had to weed through men, independently establishing whether or not I thought they may be serial killers or bad parent material.  I had to decide if I cared if they were religious or not religious, if they smoked or drank occasionally or all day long.  I then, with nothing more than a single photo, usually a bad one with lighting so dark you can’t even tell if there’s someone in the picture, decide if he made my lady part hot.  The premise is fantastic.   From your bedroom with your two-day old yoga pants with ice cream stained on the front and your hair in a bun and your glasses on with no make up you could decide if a guy was worth your time and then the dreaded wait would begin.  Would he think you were worth his?  Ugh….I hate waiting, remember what I said about patience.  I have none, and to think that it would take a man time to look at my picture or read my cute little quips and not be utterly entranced with me made my heart sink.  What if no one answered?  This was supposed to be making things easier, but so far it had done nothing but cause more anxiety.  So I decided, as with all new things, that I would sleep on it and see what the next morning would show me.  Anyway, tomorrow is another day right?  So the next morning I filled my coffee cup and with my whole body a blaze with excitement, I could almost not stand myself with how captivated  I was to get onto the computer.  Then there it was…..in print…..they liked me!  They really liked me!  I read just about every single bio of someone who contacted me.  I feel much as I do about if a guy approaches you at a bar: If he has the courage to walk up to you and say hello, the least you can do is give him a few minutes of your time. And that is what I did to Smartguy101 and Lonesomebutlovely and Dorkydecemberbaby.  My other internet rule was that if someone took the time to send me a note, I would at least reply; “Thank you but I’m not interested”  “No thank you” “Best of luck” I would stare at the computer screen thinking that somewhere out there, he was searching for me too. And then in that moment I was Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail: “The odd thing about this form of communication is that you’re more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many something’s”  And isn’t it true?  All the different forms of communication that have replaced regular face to face interaction can mean a whole lot, but nothing, nothing will replace, could replace the interpersonal connection of a face to face meeting. Nor should it.

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