Well, I have a date set for this weekend. The first date I've had in a long time. It's with a guy who saw me driving in my car and then answered my personal ad: He recognized my picture. We've been chatting via email all week, and I was pretty calm, but now I'm keyed up. I'm writing about it here so I can transfer the energy or something and be normal and not freak the guy out.

Maybe he'll freak *me* out. He comes across nice in his e-mails, but I don't know what he looks like. Maybe that will be an unpleasant surprise. He's around my age and he's got a couple of graduate degrees, although he can't spell in his e-mails. Ugh, there I go. I'm going to fuck it up.

People don't get my sense of humor. He asked how should I know him and I suggested he carry a single red rose and a book by Sylvia Plath. See? I think that's funny. But I don't think he got it. I said I'd be the one reeking of cologne. Ha ha ha again, but he wrote me back: You're kidding, right?

You would think as you get older certain things like meeting people for dates would get easier, but for me it's the opposite: It's more difficult.

Well maybe I'll spill a beer on him or have my friend Hal E. Tosis along or laugh too loud or something. Maybe he'll go on and on about his exes or his job or how much money he does or doesn't make. Maybe I'll tell him how I can take care of myself and I don't need no stinkin boyfriend. *sigh*

And that's a real *sigh* this time...