How to NOT be a total schmuck at online dating...

Lessons learned from Match.com.

1. Pictures: I get it, you're attractive. You have a glowing athletic frame. Your ex-girlfriend (pictured clutching you in several shots) adored you. Your Mom loves you. Your dog already appears to be the love of your life. Your abs are so solid you could grate cheddar on them. You have traveled the world (indicated by several landscape only images). Huh? But 25 thumbnails. Seriously? Twenty-Five! Who needs that many adulating portraits?

2. Cliché parade: Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, seems to Work Hard, Play Harder. Which is marred by the fact that the whole lot of you are really laid back. Oy.

3. Girls, Girls, Girls: Call me a girl and I'll cut you. Promise. A gal, sure. A lady, most certainly. A sophisticated intelligent sexy woman, by all means. But a g-i-r-l. No way! I'm not under age 13. And if you really are, in fact, looking for a girl, I'll find you on To Catch a Predator.

4. Naming Names: If your name is Bill, I'm sorry. We are not a match. (Something about a Rodgers & Hammerstein earworm that starts spinning every time I say your name. Like a tree he'll grow. With his head held high...)

Stay tuned for other musing about my latest self-inflicted impulse purchase.

Summer Reading: Final Thoughts

Summer started with a classic novel, then moved into a fast-paced international mystery (which made me ache to plan a trip to Spain).
Followed, finally, by a collection of this, that, and the other.

On occasion, I get into a reading funk. Does that ever happen to you? Why is that? Fortunately, my funk only lasted two weeks and was shattered by the brilliance of one Anne Fadiman*. Her little book about books was a delicious celebration of language, editing, inscriptions, and reading on location. All in a digestible essay format.

In addition, I've picked up Salt: A World History for the next book club selection and The Story of San Michele, inspired by my trip to Italy (which yes, I do eventually plan on writing about). My hope is, that it will satiate my reoccurring dream of purchasing a vacation home on the intoxicating island of Capri and eating gelato the rest of my days.


*Ms. Fadiman is a kindred spirit and no true bibliophile could argue otherwise.

Wordless Wednesday: Florence

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I returned to an old lover today. He enveloped me in a cloak of green, slightly golden around the edges. Walking over his splintered boardwalk, cattails swaying over my crown. I soaked in the memory of our first cognizance.
I'd left him last autumn, and so I'd returned.

Returned to his beauty. Where I'd seen fireflies and foxes; otters and owls; tree frogs and turtles; egrets and elderberries; wild turkeys and wildflowers.
No bikers.
No joggers.
No dogs.

Teeming with transcendent life, a near silence surrounded me.

I sat.
Just myself and my thoughts.
Hands intertwined, his familiarity felt like home.
A home I'd missed.

And I walked on.

Modern Day Yente

Take two.

Let's see if the electronic Yente can find me a find.
Catch me a catch.
Yadda yadda yadda.

(Golden star if you guess the site I'm on.)

Hosting 101

1. Introduce your guests to one other. (Especially if the gathering is fewer than a dozen.) Otherwise, uhm hel-lo, that's just awkward.

2. If parking isn't obvious, let your guests know in advance.

3. When serving food, especially sweet offering, serve water. At the very least.

Because I'd like to enjoy myself at your next social gathering, I've graciously shared these common sense tips. You're welcome.

Travel Gone Wrong

Or should I say Photos gone MISSING.

Yes, 1,000+ photos of my international trip GONE.

I'm DEVASTATED, of course.
And it makes me want to write about Italy even less.

Lost bags. Delayed flights. Missed connections. Lost cameras. Unexpected sickness. An Italian ATM machine that stole my card.

SIGH.

I guess that's just part of what it means to be an international traveler.

Ps. The only reason one should ever go to Naples is for Pizza. (Trust me, Naples is not a nice place.) However, they have pizza so amazing that if I had the discretionary funds I would. not. hesitate. to have a Margherita flown to me every weekend for the rest of my life.

Wordless Wednesday