What did you just call me or what did you just answer?

Happy half way through the summer and a break in the shvitz bath at least for today. This weather is not for sissies and yup, in this situation, sixty is a big sissy.

As it turns out, I'm a sissy in other areas, too. If you think that is easy to say, trust me when I tell you, HELLS TO THE NO!.

With the best of intentions, we all, well, not all, what are you waiting for, kids but whatever;  put ourselves out into cyberspace on one dating site or another.

  ###yes, that was one of the worst run on sentences ever but am not changing it as it works or at least for me it does/

The expectation is that one is on dating sites to find your beshert. Ok, I've explained that but will again. Loosely translated it means the one with whom you are meant to be. Written in the wind or something. OYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Anyway, if you're lucky and not half a crazy person, you will indeed meet someone. It takes work, it takes guts and it takes the hide of a rhino. Right, yes, right. 

What is a half a crazy person? It's someone of either sex who is just on these apps, sites whatever  to "date" forever. I kid you not!!!! They spend their days, nights on the sites, chit chatting away and yes, ultimately going on lots of first dates. Many even have 2 and even 3 first dates in one day. To me the definition of hell, is to be going on first dates for forever.

Then again, my eldest daughter, who knows her stuff , quite awhile ago, called me the "queen" of first daters. One date and meh, meh meh. Now that was not always the case but yah, I have been on many a first date.

Sooo, why didn't I get a SO? Well, I did a few times and it was good until it wasn't. Now, that I picked emotionally unavailable men or my other favorite, the man who thinks he can mold you has something do with with it. Do I look like Eliza Doolittle? NOT.

What was my wont, that's to make up for the aforementioned awful sentence,  was to dabble dates and  a few bad dates and sixty didn't walk, she ran off the sites. Oh, side bar: never more than one at a time. Exhausting and confusing and hell, I have a life that consists of more than  this.

Now after a break up, depending on to what degree, I was invested and who did the breaking, sixty in her former iteration, would hunker down and stay off a site for maybe years. NOT KIDDING.

So now, that I finally screwed my head on facing forward and not backward, dating took on a new dimension. I know dummy but at least I learned FINALLY. How many years? I lost my abacus.

It's no news flash that I have met a man, whom I call Mr. Nice because he is and I am going away with him to Greece. And yes, he knows about Sixty's blog and thinks it's funny. SMART GUY, that's for sure. 

Anyway, over dinner Saturday night, when I was having trouble seeing because of the sweat mixed with mascara going into my eyes and making me look like a latter day Elvira, I picked up my wine glass and said, so are you my boyfriend? and yes before you say it, sixty sometimes has the emotional maturity of a 16 year old. More on that particular age, another time.

What does Mr. Nice say in his charming way, Yes,. OK, what happened next? I didn't go running out of the restaurant like my hair was on fire. I just smiled and said cool.

No omg, am trapped no shakes no nothing. Felt great to hear it. Now, if I can only think of another word for boyfriend. It's so high school but if am still emotionally 16, then I guess it works.

Stay tuned....Forgive all typos etc. I wanted to get this one out before the shopping frenzy was replaced with packing lunacy. :)


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