I'm not kidding. I feel kinder, gentler and more tolerant of mankind in general today. I feel optimistic, as though, yes, I will in fact lose the baby weight within three months of heaving my daughter out into the world. I feel relaxed and cool, as though I'm not afraid of losing my job. I feel an expanding and yea, limitless capacity for love. I want to hold you all collectively to my bosom. Well, symbolically, that is. Don't touch me please.
(I totally had to dictionary.com "bosom." I tried typing it four different ways and none of them were right. Now I want to find a reason to use "bosomy" in this blog.)
I have a bosomy friend who is on Match.com. She often sends me the choicest of her matches. Today she received this missive from a prospective lover:
I like to ride my bicycle most of all. When I'm home I like to relax and play with my cats and have a cigar and a glass of water and watch a little TV before bedtime."
And there it ended.
I have to admit, I don't know what confuses me the most, that he drinks water with his cigar or that he has cats (multiple) and he likes to play with them. The macho cigar, together with the cats and the glass of water just jars me.
Clearly, something is not right with the man.
My friend bemoans being on Match.com and says to me, "I just want to get off Match someday and meet my prince like you did." I had to remind her that I met my "prince" (he's going to love this) on Match.com so she's going to have to stay on Match in order to meet her prince and then sign off.
Thank god The Fiance never mentioned smoking cigars while drinking water nor owning a small herd of cats. Though he was separated and not divorced when I met him, and I had vowed never to date a separated man again after I met a few too many separated men who only wanted to talk about their Exes while on lovely dates with me.
The moral of the story, you see, is that everything is better when you're elastic. Give yourself a little room to breathe. Open yourself and expand your mind to men with cats and not-quite-divorced lovers.
You never know, you might be surpised by what fits.
(Or, you might just wind up wearing elastic waist pants. You know, because the not-quite-divorced lover knocked you up.)