"Please store all emotional baggage securely in the overhead bins".
The foot has been dry long enough. The time has come to dip a toe back into the dating pool. I’ve not allowed myself a proper date in nearly a year. There's no solid juicy crush to speak of. The last really good spin was the 27-(he said)-year-old waiter who made my 41st birthday every so memorable.
I am ready to date.
I’ve had friends tell me (all married, btw) that one must approach serious dating as you would a business plan. Set the goal.
First, find the men. The single, straight, eligible men. Given I work from home, my daily aerobics class is 99.5% women and we live in the digital age, I turn to the internet. Now, I’m a strong believer in the physical. Not what a person looks like, so much, but the tilt of the head, the walk, the stance. I once fell madly from the way he held the salt shaker. I may struggle with the see me, hear me, rather than touch me aspect of online introductions.
Second, post a profile. Extol all you are and all you seek in a thousand words or so. Gosh this is sounding sillier by the minute.... How about the basics:
I don’t want to get married.
I don’t think I want kids.
I’m not sure I want any part of raising yours.
I want funny, a little sensitive, good for a tussle now and then.
I want the good boom. The really good, adventurous boom.
I’m nervous and fear I may fail. As an independent, successful, often goofy, sometimes immature, at times introspective and dark, always ready for a cocktail woman, do I want (or need) the same thing a man in his late 30’s or 40’s seeks?
Will keep you posted. And hey, if you know anyone...