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...

BIPC is an acronym for the place where I work, and I run with a tree-hugging hippy-love crowd in an environment overrun with Red Americans. We are a group that tend to congregate at weird restaurants and bars with live bands. And when we throw a party, they are vegetarian pot-lucks.

There are some group 'traditions.' After dinner, when we've had a certain amount of alcohol, we do a one-card tarot read. Not that I believe in any of that, but it has been interesting how insightful these cards have been.

For about three years, since I've been part of this posse, I've have the knack for drawing downer cards: cards that by themselves have 'issues' stamped all over them -- like Death or The Tower -- or have negative meanings if drawn In Reverse (upside down). I remember one particularly dark card, drawn at the peak of misery two years ago, the Hangman: The more you struggled to free yourself, the binds that tied would grow only tighter.

At the last party three weeks ago, I drew The Sun.

Hello, well it's been awhile.

I've been told this site's been messed up on some browsers after I had moved things around a bit, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out how to fix it, using articles on css and xhtml I had downloaded.

Then last week, on a break from meetings, I wandered into BIPC's technical library. A goldmine, I tell ya, a goldmine! I signed out several books on XHTML and have hopefully implemented something that has fixed it. Perhaps a kind visitor will send me an e-mail...?

For less serious matters, I've had a personal ad running for some time. I keep toning it down, as I've gotten more and more comfortable with being single and as each date was more disastrous than the last. Somewhere in the spring I wrote about my last 'real' date from the ad, with a guy who seemed nice but 'no magic.' Still, he was okay enough and I thought maybe he'd be a friend. A few days after the date, it freaked me to see him walking down my street, head looking all around. After that I took my ad even less seriously and I no longer even respond to a lot of them. Here's a response; one I received a couple of weeks ago:

i am 52 and live in Suburb...how about it? I am not an evil spirit but a nice guy who needs to have friends...how about it?

Well, how about it, bloggies? Here's my reaction: Thanks but no thanks.

And then, here's a more recent reply:

One of the reasons I contacted you was because our profiles seemed to be very compatible. But also, I could have sworn you were driving behind me last week in a silver Honda type car, with a girl in the passenger seat. I was on route X south, going toward Y from work (around 5 p or so). I was driving a [rugged he-man car] and tried to get your attention a number of times, but you (I think it was you) were in the middle of a conversation and didn't see. Plus, I didn't want to be too obnoxious, in case it wasn't you or even if it was, didn't want you to think I was nuts or something.

*sigh*

And even though I wrote *sigh*, in reality I'm having some difficulty controlling my anger. I'm not always sure what provokes it, it just starts bubbling from somewhere deep within and I can feel my throat constrict. Yes, I have issues. I haven't yet responded and am not sure I should or ever will.

So, perhaps I should stick with pickups in bars, as unfulfilling as that sometimes is -- and last Friday, I went out to a local drinking establishment. Awful! There was only one guy who I thought was cute in the place and as I was getting ready to move in and introduce myself, zwhoop! in moves Trick -- just ahead of me and whom I hadn't spotted. I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks and I bet the last time was the last time.

So, I held back and watched. Maybe I would sidle over anyway, to see if they both wanted to hang out, as they say. From their body language I could see they already knew each other -- no tension. And I could see from their glazed and unfocused eyes as they ordered another round, that they were well on their way to potted. As they sat in a cloud of cigarette smoke, I decided it wasn't worth it.

That's an update on my glorious single life in Ohio. I know you're jealous!