jeudi, octobre 09, 2008

Where's the "boy" next door?

Those of you who like to see me pontificate (Pope Benedict is under no threat) on the debates, world finance, and the Episcopal Church may want to skip this post. It's more of a mini-lament than anything profound. The topic? Why I'm so fussy about dating -- and whether there is anything I can do about it.

Let me say, first off, that I am well aware that I come with cracks and chips and lost bits, too. I'm not standing on a mountaintop looking down -- not at all.

Over the past month, I've been contacted by some really nice guys, and a couple of people I suspect are jerks. Unfortunately, sometimes you can't tell they are jerks until you talk to them a few times -- because even a cad can be good looking, intelligent, and interesting (recall high school?)

But the nice guys also come with liabilities. A few live far enough away to make a relatiosnhip impractical. Finding time to go out with friends is hard enough -- stealing the time to get to Staten Island overnight almost beyond possible. A few didn't have my jones for politics, or novels, or the arts --- that doesn't make them stupid, just in a different place. And a couple of guys have tense relationships with their exes -- and need some help to get healed.

In and of themselves, none of these are deal-breakers (except, maybe the distance). If a guy lived close enough to meet, and I grew fond of him, a lot of this might not matter. The problem is that I really, really really need to want to be in a relationship to accept these boundaries.

I haven't, so far. Perhaps I'll get to the place where I am not so fussy. Or perhaps I'm not fussy, just realistic about what I can and can't accept.

I suspect the latter. Which, of course, makes the search even harder.

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