Are we there yet?

Or "Do I gotta?"

Or "She's not just a pretty monarch. She's smart too!"

...I had an epiphany tonight. Now, don't get too excited because traditionally my epiphanies are neither earth-shattering nor long-term, but here mine was:

The idea of checking either of the online dating services felt like a chore. A chore. Like "oh crap, before I go to bed I'd better check Yenta.com and the other one." And then kind of a "poopsters." feeling, like you get when you're almost ready for bed and you realize tomorrow is garbage day. Or when you fall asleep on the couch and crawl from sofa to bed and are just drifting off as you register that your teeth are unbrushed. You know what I'm talking about, right? That "dang, I was almost scott free!" sensation.

But instead of garbage or plaque-defense it's "finding wove."

Its not that I don't want to have wove. I like the idea of being in wove, all mooney-eyed and giggley-pussed and such. And I have some fond memories of when I think I might have been in wove in the past. That time. Assuming that I was in wove, which is something I won't ever know for sure until I get to do it at least once more and then compare sensations.

But I realized today that the concept of pursuing wove, seeking it out, hunting it down... WHAT A HASSLE!!! It sucks, and the older I get the more it will suck. And the more lame I will feel doing it. And I don't like feeling lame.

The Queen has said in the past that my lack of partner was due mostly to my lack of making it a priority, or really going after it, or possibly "not working hard enough." I don't know if that was true in the past -- there was this 6-month stretch where I was positively chasing a dude from my office, and as exhausting as that was I'm sure I was working hard! -- but I'm pretty sure it's about to be true. Maybe I just need a break? Maybe I need a change of perspective? But for the next week or two I may not do much in pursuit of wove.

Not that I won't write -- I promise I will write. But maybe a bit more about the life of a single gal and less about the ways to be a double. A plural? A plenty? A couple.

But before I shift focus, here's a picture of the cute guy that lives across the street from my uncle and came over on the fourth w/ a 75-yr old copy of Colliers to show to the rest of the men. Enjoy.