Go West Young Women

Ahh Mae West - pure unabashed sex appeal. She shocked. She titillated. But dammit - doesn't it look like she had all sorts of fun?

Some days I don't feel female anymore - just neuter. I have a male-dominated job, wherein I am supposed to act business-like (read "neuter") and wear clothes that minimize my boobs and my hips. I am supposed to feel affronted if one of my colleagues stares at my breasts when I am speaking to him. Well, there is one in particular that totally skeezes me out when he does it, but otherwise I really don't mind all that much. Stare away boys - grew 'em myself. Actually quite proud of them, really. You should see 'em in a low cut and lacy demi bra. Very nice.

I have fantasies some days about sashaying into court in a low-cut red evening dress and addressing the court with a purr rather than with a clear and concise tone. What freedom.

Freedom. Societal norms and expectations have taken away my freedom to be sexy, to embrace my curves and to sashay anywhere. There was a woman in Ontario who was kicked out of court about 10 years ago because her skirt was 2 inches above the knee and her blouse was sheer under her suit jacket. I saw the outfit in the National Post. I didn't think "slore" when I saw it - I thought "gee that woman has some gams on her - she looks quite cute, actually. What's the big deal"?

Back when I practiced in downtown Vancouver I used to think "I am a good enough lawyer that I should be able to paint my toenails Electric Strawberry and wear open toed shoes with stilleto heels and still be taken seriously" and "I would find it empowering if I could be a woman, look like a woman and practice law". Alas, I have pushed the envelope from time to time, but in the end, my male colleagues are left to stare at the flat black front of my suit jacket for the most part. What a waste. Because nature/god (depending on your personal beliefs) gave women boobs and butts and hips. But we hide them like they are shameful secrets.

Mae West would be so disappointed in us.

A Little Westside Story

One of the annoying little aspects of my job is dealing with gangs. I understand that it is natural for disaffected youth who have few family supports to band together as a gang. I get it. But the code that is kept by these gangs is so far removed from my experience that I have a hard time working with it in my job.

People of my vintage, even the bad kids, were raised to have, if not a healthy respect for the police, then a healthy fear of them. I was a bad kid. But one of the things I had to deal with in my early days as a prosecutor was the inherent fear I felt when I saw a police man with a gun. It was instinctive and ingrained in me that they were figures of authority and power. Of course, I am way past feeling that now - I know many and count some of them as personal friends and know that they are human beings doing a job that can get pretty lousy.

But getting back to "kids these days" (I know, I know). I feel sometimes when dealing with these gang members and gang wannabes that I have stepped through the looking glass. I mean, had my friend been murdered at a party by another friend, and I witnessed it, I would have come forward to the police and told them what had happened. Because murder is wrong. But time and again, I have witnessed The Rat Syndrome. It makes no sense to me that, should you come forward and tell the truth about what happened to your friend, you will be branded as a rat and ostracized. Shouldn't the person who committed murder be ostracized??? However, people who cooperate with the authorities are pariahs and treated as traitors - their homes and vehicles are vandalized, their families at risk.

Because there is a publication ban on my current matter I can't go into detail, but I can say overall that watching people stand up for what is right in the face of this new morality inspires and humbles me. Now, more than ever, people who have the courage to say "No that is wrong and we as a community refuse to accept this any longer" should be lauded. It was easy for me to do the right thing when I was a kid, because it was clear what the right thing was. These days, it is so more complex.

Ahhhh ....Sanity Provides Welcome Relief to an Overwrought Mind

I know, I know, I have been away for a while. I had contagious pneumonia and a small personal crisis. One would think that the mandatory quarantine would have given me time to write, but I was too discombobulated to put the electronic pen to the cyber paper. I am better now!!

Well, out of all my body parts, my stomach wins the "Who is Smarter" award. My head and heart came a distant 2nd and 3rd. It turns out that Mr. Cheesecake was a Tinman. All was revealed through a little snooping and a little bluffing on my part. Pretending to know things is an old lawyer trick we use, and has come in handy from time to time in my personal life. Really, when I think about it, dating cads, rakes, bounders and lotharios has sharpened my cross-examination skills to a razor sharpness. That twisty feeling in my stomach was not the beginning stages of love. It was a warning from my gut that, while the guy may seem like a bit of a geek, he was a low-down dirty player. A skeeze.

In the end, I have been able to compare notes with another one of Cheesecake's victims - the girl in the SAME CITY AS ME who he was bamboozling (there were more girls- it was just convenient that I approach her through a mutual friend).

When caught red-handed, he did not do the stand-up thing at that point which would have been to say "hey girls, sorry you caught me". Instead he called us both "insane" for thinking we were anything at all to him. I pointed out that, amongst other things, he INTRODUCED ME TO HIS PARENTS.

Too bad I can't think of the other names attached to mushy texts that I saw on his cellphone. I might approach them too. Save them a few months of frustration and some embarrassment. I know - that would be crazy, but I feel that the sisterhood should be warned about guys like this. I wouldn't do it, I swear. I just wish I could.

That weird feeling in my gut was not insecurity. My stomach knew this guy was BAD news. My stomach is smarter than the rest of me. I vow to listen to it from now on when it comes to boys.

The Plastics Invade My Office

I work in an office where the majority of the support staff are women. The office manager is a woman. My boss is an old white fellow who can barely turn on his computer. He, therefore, has vested all power and control over the staff and the infrastructure of the office to the office manager.

The office manager is not a benevolent dictator. Consider her an older version of Regina George from Mean Girls. She rules with an iron fist, is cheap as the day is long (she goes from office to office stealing excess pens from people's offices and returns them to the supply room under the cover of night), and she tends to play favorites.

It is not to say that our office does not run efficiently, in some ways. But someone has yet to explain to me why the person who takes the outgoing mail down to the mail room cannot be the person who brings the incoming mail up to our office. The person who answers the phones also does dictation, which seems to me to be an odd choice. All in all, things sometimes just don't make sense.

But what really gets me is the abject rudeness that is allowed to occur in the office. Because we are a government organization, the support staff are unionized. Behaviors that would, in the private sector get someone canned, are allowed to bloom and fester.

There is one woman, who admittedly is more than a little annoying, who has been isolated in a completely different region of our office from the other staff. The office manager is unbelievably rude to this woman, the product of grievances past. and no one calls the office manager on the unprofessionalism she displays. You may not like a person, but if you are the boss do you have to show it? Should you show it?

The office manager has two favorites, who seem to be in charge of very limited duties compared to the rest of the staff. Despite the fact that they are less efficient, they are rewarded with extra-wide smiles and little inside jokes. The other 4 staff members are alternately ignored or berated. The old white guy at the top is oblivious.

One of the other 4 staff members is an absolute delight. She comes early, stays late, seeks out other work when she is slow and will help others out. She recently incited the wrath of one of the favorites. The atmosphere is so bad, that she was in my office crying two days in a row. And this from a woman who came back early from medical leave from major surgery without complaint. She wants to quit.

Which brings me to my question of the day? Why is it, when given absolute authority, people abuse it? Why is it that when women work together it devolves into a junior high atmosphere? Why are there adult bullies in the workplace and why is this allowed to continue in a professional atmosphere?

We really are, as a gender, our own worst enemies sometimes. You may not like someone, but really, why do you have to go out of your way to show it? And what should bosses do to ensure it doesn't happen in the first instance?

I can't play but I can coach....

There was a series of books by Regena Thomashauer wherein she set out her philosophy on life and love and female empowerment. She referred to the enlightened who followed her teaching as "Sister Goddesses." I liked the concept, although I wasn't always in agreement with her methods, which I found to be, at times, more manipulative than I liked. So I formed a loosely-knit group of my own with some like-minded friends, and we have collectively developed some philosophies. I decided, in Cheesecake's absence, to use my time productively to write down some of these rules.

I should say that our club was spawned out of desperation. I was coming off my first break up/train wreck with the Tricky Man, and most of my single close friends were involved in their own unfortunate circumstances. So far, the club's success rate has only been brought down by my own problems - all others seem to have succeeeded. I, of course, did not follow the strictures set down by the club, and have only myself to blame.

Enjoy:

Sister Goddesses

I. Feeling overwhelmed, under whelmed, depressed, underappreciated or blue? Go directly to the phone, call a Sister Goddess (S.G.) or two and convene a meeting over libations of your choice. Feel free to laugh at any point. All situations are better when they are worked out with a friend’s help over red wine or martinis.

II. Give yourself at least one sinful treat a week. This can be a long bubble bath or a night watching mind-numbingly bad television, or whatever makes you rub your feet together with pleasure or giggle with glee. If possible, aim for one sinful treat per day, even if it is a square of dark chocolate and a walk around the block.

III. Once a month say “yes” to something that you would normally turn down.

IV. Accept that you are your own fairy godmother, Cinderella, and that you have the power to make magic in your every day life.

V. Do anonymous acts of kindness as often as possible. The glow you get from being a good person is simply irresistible.

VI. Even if the Sister Goddess has entered into a stable relationship, she will engage in harmless flirting with helpless captives several times a week (the barista behind the counter at Starbucks or the waiter in a restaurant). This is to preserve the feeling of deliciousness that lights a woman from within.

VII. Thou shalt love thyself and thy body, and appreciate thy body as quite simply the coolest machine you will ever own. Dance naked, wear sexy lingerie, do something, anything to celebrate it.

VIII. An SG will maintain herself within a wholesome discipline. This may mean, depending on her comfort level, with regular trips to the esthetician, hairdresser and/or gym. When you feel good about yourself, you are more likely to expect respect.

IX. Thou shalt not use the bad feeling left over from a past relationship as a club to beat down the beginnings of a new relationship. Do yourself a huge favor – take some time off before getting into a new relationship. You should be at the point where you can happily spend time on your own (without creeping on his facebook or myspace pages or blocking your number and phoning and hanging up on his voicemail) before you move on. Do some emotional housekeeping, and sweep that dirt and that dirty man out the door.

X. On or before the third date with a Prospective Beau (PB), the SG dating the PB will produce her potential beau to at least one member of the club for approval. If the SG from whom approval is sought gives the PB a thumbs down, the SG seeking approval has two options – appeal to the club or kick the PB to the curb. Reasons for rejection must be clearly stated.

XI. The Appeals process should involve three members of the club. If three of your friends think he is a loogan, you should get rid of him as soon as possible.

XII. SGs simply do not chase boys. If he wants to talk to you he will phone you, text you or email you (out of those three, calls are the preferred method of communication). Heck, he can send you a Harry Potter Owl in a pinch. Unless he is climbing Everest or a hostage in the Middle East, he can drop you a line every day, or every other day.

XIII. Similarly SGs do not “drop in” or “drop by” to see a PB. PBs will seek us out if they want to see us. Also, they will make plans to see you if they are interested. If he talks to you all the time, but no dates are made, Houston we have a problem.

XIV. SGs will enforce a probation period before extending conjugal benefits. A certain amount of previewing the benefits is permitted, but if the preview involves the naughty bits, that equals benefits. The probation period should be the same as a probationary period to receive medical benefits at a job. Don’t give away your cookie to undeserving schlubs.

XV. If a PB is enjoying benefits from an SG, he should not be out there pursuing “other opportunities.” It is a dangerous world out there, and you probably don’t want to sleep with half the world by proxy. If he is pursuing other opportunities, the SG should give the PB back to the universe.

XVI. “Cheating” is defined as anything you wouldn’t do if your partner was present. If, after a reasonable time has passed and the PB is enjoying benefits, he still hides his cell phone and won’t take calls with you in the room, you should consider the “release” portion of the “catch and release” program.

XVII. If you have been dating for a reasonable period of time, and the PB is enjoying benefits, and the PB has not introduced you to his friends and family, you should seriously consider whether the PB is serious about you. Act accordingly.

XVIII. If, after a reasonable time has passed and you have extended benefits, he still attends weddings, work functions and other “couple” events alone, the SG should seriously consider whether he is serious about you.

XIX. A certain amount of courtesies should be extended to the SG by the PB in the courtship stage. This may include opening doors, not farting in front of you and carrying your heavy suitcase to the car. Better get them now ladies, because sometimes these are the first things to taper off.

XX. There are no words that send a rat running up the pant leg of a PB more than “we have to talk.” That being said, if serious concerns arise, a SG should be able to raise issues in a calm way and be heard with respect and compassion by the PB.

XXI. Benefits are never to be used as a weapon. Sex is the most enjoyable and free activity on the face of the earth. And yes, it is the most powerful tool we have. But holding benefits ransom to acquire goods and services causes more issues than it is worth.

XXII. The highway, so to speak, runs both ways. If you find that you are doing all of the work and/or the traveling to facilitate time together, this is a problem. Mohammed does not always have to come to the mountain.

XXIII. Be careful about accepting last minute dates. It is one thing if he spontaneously wants to see you between scheduled dates, but if he consistently phones you at the last minute, he may be simply waiting to see if anything better comes along first. A weekend date should be made by Thursday. No plans with him by Thursday means go make some other plans. If he phones, you can indicate that you would love to see him, but it will have to wait a couple of days. Girls who sit in front of the TV on a Saturday night because they gambled on a last minute request get unattractive bitter frown lines.

XXIV. Do not respond to booty calls in the courtship phase. He WON’T respect you in the morning.

XXV. Thou shalt practice “defensive dating.” If you and your PB have not had the “we’re exclusive” talk, you probably aren’t. Until the talk, go out, have some fun (remember the benefits rule, of course). If a guy wants to go steady with you, he should ask you, right?

XXVI. The SG is an independent woman, and she makes her own way in life, but she should always be wary of the “dutch” trap. A good man provides for a woman, and should have to be persuaded to allow a woman to pay while they are in the courtship phase.

XXVII. Don’t feign interest in all the things he is interested in. If you pretend to like basketball, know that two things will happen – you will either have to watch basketball for the rest of your relationship or you will have to admit that you are a big fat fraud. Either way, a most unhappy result awaits you. It is, however, ok to explore interests of the PB that the SG might find entertaining.

XXVIII. Never ever change who you are, or compromise your values or your morals to be with a man. This creates an unsustainable situation.

XXIX. Don’t ask for respect. Expect it. Maintain your dignity.

XXX. It’s okay to be nice to a PB, but cleaning his house or making him a collage on the third date is just plain weird. Be cool.

XXXI. You will survive if it doesn’t work out. Always keep in mind that while he may seem terrific, there are another hundred guys out there who will think that YOU are terrific.

XXXII. After the probationary period, a PB should not have to reminded of birthdays, Valentine’s day or Christmas. Failure to observe these rules is a rather serious offence.

XXXIII. Married men or men with girlfriends warrant special mention. The simple fact is that it is a complicated world, and sometimes things don’t work out between two people. And sometimes, one of those people may meet someone new before that relationship winds down. Stuff happens sometimes. The SG backs off and lets the married or taken PB work his life out. Hanging around and taking what you can get simply makes his relationship at home more bearable. And of course, not every guy in this situation is a good guy. There are jerks out there who cheat because they can. You should have a pretty good gut feeling about what category your PB falls into, and act accordingly.

XXXIV. Once in a stable or live-in relationship, the SG will not attempt to be a scary superwoman. This means that the SG will determine what she likes doing, chore-wise, or at least what she doesn’t hate, and feign reluctance, incompetence or even fear with respect to the rest. There is no way that a SG should be in charge of cooking, cleaning, laundry, child-rearing, home maintenance, vehicle maintenance and toilet backups. A haggard SG is an unhappy SG.

XXXV. If a PB has crossed the line to a Stable Beau (SB), and he suddenly becomes distant or withdrawn, if the SB’s answer to the SG’s obvious question is that there is nothing wrong, the SG will not continue to chase the SB around. Instead, the SG will keep herself busy with pleasurable pursuits, thereby creating a vacuum. It is up to the SB to step forward to fill the gap. Begging someone for their attention is demeaning and beneath the SG.

XXXVI. Whether he is a PB or an SB, he should always speak of the SG in glowing terms. Venting to one or two select friends is permissible. Under no circumstances should the PB or SB vent to his mother about the SG.

XXXVII. It is ok to support your man emotionally, but great consideration should be given before supporting a SB or PB financially for an extensive period of time. Only in the most extreme of circumstances should this occur. Conversely, the SG should pull her own weight.

XXXVIII. The SG and PB or SB should have lives separate and apart from each other. Each should be complete as a human being. This means, in practical terms, that it is okay and actually pretty awesome if you have your own friends, hobbies and interests, as well as ones that you can share together.

XXXIX. SGs should recognize and reward both little and big deeds done on her behalf or for her benefit by the SB or PB. A PB or SB will be forgiven for discontinuing such acts of kindness if they go unrecognized by the SG.

XL. For god’s sake, no nagging. Speak your piece, and trust that he will rise to the challenge.

XLI. Extreme caution should be used by the SG when considering breaking up with a PB or SB. If necessary, if there is some uncertainty, a SG would be well-advised to confer with a fellow SG. Decisions should not be made in the heat of anger, as these are usually regretted in the calm of the next morning.

XLII. An SG will never feign affection or an orgasm.

XLIII. It’s ok to let a man protect you. And they seem to really get off on that stuff.

XLIV. You have the right to your opinion. Your SB or PB may not agree with it, but he should respect your right to have it.

XLV. Never ever accept mistreatment from an SB or a PB. Physical or mental. If he did it once, odds are he will do it again.

XLVI. You may, at any time, refuse sex or refuse to perform certain sexual acts. If he doesn’t understand and is a douchebag about it, he doesn’t deserve you. It’s your body, and you have complete control over it.

XLVII. Speaking of bodies, a man should never, ever tell you that he thinks you should lose weight or that a girl is prettier than you. Any man who does this is a moron.

XLVIII. If you feel loneliest when you are in the same room as your PB or SB, you should seriously considering jettisoning him from the spaceship.

XLIX. If someone breaks up with you and then has a change of heart, the PB or SB should be put through the approval and courtship process again. And no benefits until the probationary period is over.

L. For goddess’ sake, be nice to your man if he is a good one. Talk him up in public and in private. Show him some support. Making him look small in public makes you look even smaller.

LI. Don’t be afraid to ask you man for help. A good man will be there when you really need him.

Could it be the weather? Or is it something more sinister?

It's been a while since my last post. I was off the grid for a while. With a boy....

Before you get too excited, you have to engage with me in a process of hyperanalysis. Because that is what I do.

So, through Schmeeharmony I met a guy who was clearly out of my league. We called him Mr. Hunk. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't too enthused about Mr. Hunk. After we went on our date, it became obvious on a couple of different levels why this might be. But, gentle reader, I don't want to put the cart before the horse.

As you may or may not know, I have been engaged in a bizarre "Go-Away-Come-Close" game with Mr. Cheesecake, who I met on a scary free dating website. I decided to accept a date with Mr. Perfect after Mr. Cheesecake failed to phone me for a date a week ago Thursday. While Mr. Cheesecake and I spent countless hours talking on the phone, texting, emailing, etc., it seemed that this never translated into a date. Granted the fact that I lost it on him a few weeks before and sent him a tres snotty email could have had something to do with his reluctance, but still....

So I accepted the date, however, on my way into the city, my erstwhile Cheesecake phoned me and made casual conversation. He then asked me, after a 45 minute general conversation, what I was up to. I told him my general plans, and he asked who they were with. Awkward pause on my part - even though I knew that Cheesecake was all over chasing other girls, I still felt oddly traitorous about what I was about to do. So I asked to "plead the fifth" (we don't actually have the fifth here in Canada but everyone knows what it is). There was a stunned silence on his part. Followed by a strangled "I should let you go" from Cheesecake and then silence. That was weird, I thought. I sent him a text apologizing for the awkwardness, and he sent me one back saying that it was alright, he was used to being alone. I snorted when I read this, and texted back that he had failed to call me for the Thursday night date probably because he was too busy juggling all of the girls. There was no response to this.

So Mr. Hunk and I decided to go to a jazz concert and a fancy restaurant for our date. When he showed up, I thought "wow, you are...cute and short." At first, he seemed relatively attentive and polite. But then...well, the weirdness began.

It was, more so than most first dates, like a job interview. He questioned me closely on family health, relationships, my attitude toward my career....I fully expected him to ask me where I saw myself in 5 years. I was starting to get more than a little miffed by this attitude. I mean, is he sooooo great that he thinks I want to interview for the position of his girlfriend. And then, I swear to goddess that he caught sight of himself in a semi-reflective surface and couldn't look away. And, to be honest, the whole time, I was comparing him to my erstwhile Cheesecake, who remains unsurpassed in the areas of comfortableness and passion.

So we ended the date, and the clod did not even walk me to my vehicle. He shook my hand and told me to "keep in touch." A job interview right to the end.

Early the next morning I received a text from Cheesecake, asking me how my date was. I told him "M'eh". I asked how his time with his family was (he had gone up to his hometown for a visit). It turns out that he was sad about me going on my date, went to the bar, downed 40 rye and coke, and then promptly got his butt beat up by two local thugs. He said his face was "pretty bad." Then he asked me if I wanted to go to a movie.

So into my car I went, and I drove the hour to his city. We went to a movie, and then he invited me back to his place. His face looked awful!!! We ended up having an impromptu nap on his couch, and I woke up in his arms. I won't tax you with the details, gentle reader. Suffice it to say that none of the magic had faded in our time apart.

I made motions to leave, after a decent interval of time. He looked puzzled as to why I would say such a silly thing. So I made arrangements for my neighbour to scoop up Bob the Dog, and I settled in for the night. For the next three days, I would get up, mention that I should go, and he would talk me out of it. We went to movies, out for supper, drove through the countryside chasing thunderstorms. It was wonderful. I thought that maybe it was turning into something special by the third day.

The second night I was there, we went to a movie called "My Sister's Keeper." It was actually his pick, although I found out later he chose it merely because he thought I would like it. It is a sad movie, and in one particular scene, the terminally ill girl and her family go to a beach together. They play a song called "Feels Like Home", which I love. But I whispered to him that I liked this version better than either the Bonnie Raitt or the Chantal Kreviazuk version. When we got back to his place, I looked it up and it is done by Edwina Hayes.

The next morning, he got up first, and I was still in bed. I woke up slightly because he was fiddling with something. All of a sudden "Feels Like Home" by Edwina Hayes filled the room, and he climbed back into bed and held me. Gentle reader, I physically felt some of my careful defences crumble. I really did.

So, you know there has to be a catch to all of this wonderfulness. The enemy in this scenario was the impending Contiki Tour (known secretly to myself as "Slorefest 2009"). He was leaving five days after our movie date.

Our fragile little new beginning was subject to an busload of debauched Aussie girls. Although I smiled and was supportive about his little trip, inside I really really really hated everything about it. I even helped him repair his favorite shirt, the one he wore on our first date, so that he could wear it on Slorefest 2009. Ugh.

My only bright spot was that he introduced me to his parents on the third day, and we went for a three-hour lunch with them. I think I made a good impression, despite the fact that I was wearing Walmart underwear due to my unexpectedly long stay, and had scary hair. I thought introducing me to his parents was likely a good sign.....

The last morning, the morning of the fifth day, we stayed in bed for three hours, talking about past relationships (for the first time) and life and assorted other things before I had to leave. No promises were exchanged, although I did tell him that I was going to miss him. He promised to keep in touch via facebook, as his cellphone didn't work there, and in typical man fashion, he hadn't thought to arrange for another one. I drove away scared stiff that he would forget all about me once he got on the Sodom and Gommorah bus.

He phoned me on his way to his departure city, which was 2 hours away, and we talked for the two hours. Then he texted me a few times from the airport. And then he was gone.

I have heard from him once since he left 4 days ago, nothing mushy, just updating me that the trip was great and that he was in Switzerland. I am trying to stay calm and focused on other things.

I don't know if this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach is premonitory, loneliness or just my ulcer acting up. I just really hate this.

Dating Out of Your League

So I joined another website, one for which you actually have to pay. I won't give it back, but it rhymes with Schmeeefarmony. The commercials are sooo very annoying. All of those happy, perky, self-satisfied couples saying "look at us, aren't we just so perfect. La la la."

Hmmm - I think I maybe want to dial back the bitter dial just a smidge.

So, for the uninitiated, one is required to fill out a questionnaire about one's life. Then you are matched with people every day. One or the other person can initiate the contact after you have looked at their profile and their pictures.

If you initiate the contact, you send 5 pre-written questions to the person which have multiple choice answers. You pick these 5 questions out of a list of about 100. It should be noted that I invariably get pretty much the same ones from men every single time. It's usually "what do you like to do for fun" and "how passionate are you".

Then you send your five questions. Then each of you exchange a list of Must Haves and Can't Stands. And then each of you send 3 essay questions. At the end of this you can engage in open communication, having run the super duper Schmeeefarmony gauntlet. Presumably you should be able to weed out people looking at their answers. This is, of course, based on the premise that a person desperate enough to put their profile on Schmeeefarmony would be honest about, for instance, liking animals when you put in your profile that you have a big dog.

So, I have had some success in terms of some of the matches. But there is this guy in particular that has caught my eye. He is super hot, a VP of a mineral company, has traveled the world, owns a million dollar house in my old city.... We will call him Mr. Hunk.

I showed him to my wonderful, supportive mother, and she said "You might want to aim a little lower."

I talked to him for the first time yesterday on the phone, and he seemed pretty down to earth. We babbled back and forth to each other for a while. But ..... one of the things he said to me was that he really wanted a dog but was concerned about damage to his newly redone wood floors.

I looked at Destructo Dog, currently shedding out the equivalent of a Yorkshire Terrier on my couch, which has a Bob rip in it and thought....hmmm....fly in the ointment.