I have been fairly lonely lately: ready for a new boyfriend. It's an itchy feeling. But, I must be growing up because I'm not willing to go out on a man hunt. If I am wise, it is because I have read a lot of books and experienced some heartbreak. That small amount of wisdom that I have tells me that a man hunt will only find me someone who is easily flushed out of the bushes when loud noises are made. Those guys can run pretty quickly and I'm not very fast. I'm taking bets that the right guy for me will be a little like my pug, Retha. She was so fast that I would have to run not to catch her, but simply to keep her in sight until she got bored of running. When that happened, I would lie down on the grass and pretend like I wasn't looking at her and be totally interested in some stick. She would get curious about what I was doing and sometimes I could catch her before she realized that the stick was just a stick.
Now, I know that sounds like I'm willing to trick a man into coming home with me. However, that is not what I mean to communicate with the story about my puppy. I think probably that I have to actually be totally interested in some stick. To borrow (and change) from Dr. Phil, I have to add a relationship to a life, not a life to whatever relationship I have. So, I have to have a life, first. I'm working on that now.
All this is to say that when I was at a bar for a friend's 30th birthday party a couple of weeks ago, dressed up to go dancing with her and talking with a couple of cuddly-looking firefighters, I felt very comfortable concluding the conversation and walking away once they had teased me about using such a big word as "acuity." Those jokes always arise from insecurity. I've already been dumped by a doctor for being too smart. I don't even need to start out on that path toward hurt with a total stranger. That kind of guy is too easily startled and should only be bagged in a man hunt, which is, again, something I'm unwilling to do anymore.
What kind of girl uses the word, "acuity" while wearing a push-up bra and hot jeans in a bar, anyway?
That's right, me.
August Morning - Oh these fleeting days. Can you believe we have turned the calendar page to August? I cannot. And I say that with a deep sigh. I have always believed - here ...