Desperate Measures

I have to admit a guilty pleasure - when I get the chance and am home on a Sunday night, I tune into Desperate Housewives. There is a new storyline where the Susan character (played by Teri Hatcher, a 40-something siren) hooks up with the guy she hires to paint her house. She struggles to legitimize their relationship because she is hesitant to tell her friends, the infamous ladies of Wisteria Lane, about her decidedly working-class beau.

While she hasn't figured it out yet, I am sure a hundred TV script writers are furiously working on a solution. I hope they broadcast the results soon.

You see, I met someone interesting this week - a moderately talented singer guitarist who asked me out after meeting him at a local guitar jam session. Only problem is that his real job is a "maintenance engineer" at a large historic hotel in town.

Now, those of you who have been to my house understand why someone in this line of work might be appealing to me on a number of levels.

I live in the World's Largest House. I am single, never home, and own a house the size of the Denver Airport, with an in-ground swimming pool and an acre of lawn to mow. I have been trying to sell it for 6 mos. to no avail. And in the meantime, I am struggling to keep up with it given my complete ineptitude with anything that exists in 3 dimensions (ie the real world).

My older sister has resorted to dating tradesmen over the years, depending on what repairs she needed around the house. Leaky toilet? Hello, Mr. Plumber! She ultimately married an electrician. Smart lady.

Last winter, I paid an HVAC specialist $120 to change the AIR FILTER on my furnace. I tried to replace it myself and managed to remove the furnace cover in such a way that I was unable to replace it, and the damn thing would not run without it.

And don't even talk to me about my lawn tractor. I repeatedly ran into and over things with it and then asked unwary male co-workers to come over and help me fix it each time. Now they see me coming and run.

Or maybe I should consider dating a car mechanic. My Subaru has a look that says "don't fuck with me ... I have driven into other cars and I won't hesitate to run you over next."

So back to the gentleman in question. I think what sealed the deal for me when he said he is state certified in pool maintenance. Sign me up!

But it does bring to mind certain conventions on status and stations in life. This new guy (I have to come up with a nickname for him, don't I?) is like driving a Honda Element - not overly attractive but pretty darn practical and gets you where you need to go.

Meanwhile, Francois (remember him?) cancelled with me this weekend because he was afraid to drive in the rain. Give me a workman in Carhartts over a wuss like that any day.

At the very least, I am grateful to add another character to my blog fodder. And if some things get fixed around the house in the meantime, what's desperate about that?

Calling St. Jude

OK, so what a difference a day makes. I got an email on Saturday from someone a friend had suggested I meet as she thought we'd be a good match. Of course, a year had gone by since then, as we both moved on to other relationships and never met up. But now the earth and stars were aligned and we went out for dinner Sunday night and we really hit it off.

So now I am dating a most unlikely gentleman by the name of Francois. And in case you haven't figured it out, he is Chinese.

Kidding, he is FRENCH. A real Frenchman, with a French accent, the whole nine yards. He's an American however and has been for about 20 years.

When I got home at 1 in the morning after our date last night, I Googled him. Now I am totally intimidated. Professionally speaking, I have been merrily writing junk mail and spam for the last 20 years, while he has been (no shit) unraveling the human genome.


His last job title was "Chief Scientist" and got his (two) degrees from the University of London.


He is currently self-employed and is living comfortably off what I can only surmise is the massive profits of selling off the last business he co-founded. I think he created the search engine, or a search engine that other search engines use. Yeah, that's it. Christ, I can't even explain what he does - he's THAT smart.


I can only guess he is hanging out with me for comic relief. He lives in the town where I went to college, so I know he knows my decidedly blue collar background. Yet he called back, so I guess it's all good.


It must be my eyeglasses - what Chief Scientist can resist the "sexy librarian" look.


And unlike the fools of yore from this blog, he a) insisted on picking up the tab b) did not talk incessantly about his ex or his mother and c) did not take me to a strip club on our first date.

I hate to be hopeful. I hate that I hate to be hopeful. But I'm going to be, just a little bit for now. Even St. Jude catches a break now and again.

Aiming Too Low

I was reading a news article today on CNN.com and realized I have been aiming too low. It's time to cast aside the men of northern New Hampshire and Maine and head to New York City.


You see, I read that my all time favorite movie star celebrity comedian Bill Murray is getting divorced!


In reading this article, I can see he is clearly in the same situation I am in. Except he is a world famous actor and comic. Other than that, EXACTLY the same.



Targeting the newly divorced is a great strategy for 40-something women to use to find dates, or so I heard. Movie stars are no exception.

Look back at my last post. Now look at the headline of this article. Coincidence? I think not. Surely the earth and stars above are aligned now, pointing me to his home in upstate New York. His ex claims that he is addicted to alcohol, marijuana and sex. Sign me up!

People who know me know I can figure out just about anything. So I am truly thinking about how to get myself in front of Bill Murray. Of course, in my head, I have Bill Murray circa 1992 in my head, say, from his Ground Hog Day era. The Bill Murray of 2008 is a little more gray around the temples. But at age 58, he is likely to be salvageable. Plus all the money and fame will help me see beyond the age difference. And his ex-wife is 42. Coincidence?

Another thing I have in common with Bill ... golf. But his last public golf outing included driving a golf cart when intoxicated in Sweden. Now who hasn't done this? Of course, he wasn't on a golf course when he did it - but that's merely a detail. It just makes him more loveable.

So clearly Bill and I have enough in common to sustain a relationship. Now I just need the introduction. So please, if you know Bill, just forward him a link to this blog. I'm just a few hours away from New York by golf cart.

Waiting for Columbus

Many of my friends are married and in their 40s and 50s. They listen to (or read) my dating stories with amazement, much as I'm sure early astronauts returned to earth and told their wives and kids about their adventures. "Are you sure it's safe, going up in that rocket?" they'd ask in amazement.

Most share with me that they could never ever do it, that they would rather die alone than dive head first into the world of dating again. To help them better understand the ship of fools on which I sail, I have categorized my potential paramours into 3 categories:

1. The Tragically Single - This is the life-long bachelor. He usually has reached his 40s and is proud to never have been married and is childless. Ladies, if you think you can change him, you are delusional. You do not reach this stage of life remaining unmarried without it being a single-minded (ha!) and deliberate effort. Trying to inject yourself into his universe is an exercise in futility. Especially doomed if you have children as they can relate better to your pets or your PC than to anyone under the age of 18.

2. The Devastatingly Divorced - This guy has been married at least once and sometimes twice. Usually he had not been married for long. Regardless, there is often much bitterness and enough baggage to employ a Red Cap for a lifetime. Either has gone years without dating or is barely divorced - either way, he still is just not ready for this. There can be a lot of overlap with this character and the Tragically Single.

3. The Paralyzed Parent - Shares custody of his kids with an Ex who keeps the custody schedule in a locked vault in an encrypted file. Despite the divorce, she manages to completely run her Ex's life by dictating when he can see his children. Unable to make any plans further out than 48 hours, just in case his parental services are needed. Unwilling to introduce even a long-time girlfriend to his kids because he "doesn't want to confuse them."

So let's see, never married; married then divorced with no kids; married then divorced with kids. They all suck. But what other options are there?

I hear rumors - more like fairy tales, or unicorn sightings. A business acquaintance was divorced at the same time I was. We traded divorce war stories on a business trip together shortly after my divorce was final.

10 months later I get an email from her announcing her name change. Yes, she managed to get remarried in those 10 months to a man with 2 kids, in her home town, to a guy she had known in high school. They were now happily married and living together with their Brady-like blended family.

After re-reading her email, I called her angrily and left a message on her voice mail. "How did you do it?" I insisted. "How does ANYONE do that?"

Put this in context. I have been living in Splitzville for going on 3 years. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I have no trouble meeting men. In those 3 years, I have not introduced a single boyfriend to my kid or had a date for the company Christmas party or family wedding, any of the hallmarks of being a "couple." If I were honest with myself, perhaps I would categorize myself as a #2. How damaged am I? How ready would I be if Mike Brady materialized tomorrow?

"Just stop looking for a while," gal pal Michelle suggested today. "Have you thought about getting your MBA? That would be a nice distraction!"

But since when does giving up result in success? After all, didn't Christopher Columbus finally find what he was looking for? Just when the entire crew was ready to give up and turn around, didn't they find the passage to India?

Well, maybe that's not the best example. Maybe Michelle is right. Maybe I need to board a ship full of Italians and sail for parts unknown. Now that's a ship I'd gladly board.